


Don't Sing on My Wedding

by orphan_account



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance, Side ToDae, full of cliche
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2018-10-11 00:03:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 68,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10450506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: For Kwon Jiyong, the most beautiful thing about a wedding isn't the bride, the groom, the wedding dress, or when the couple finally tie the knot. For him, it's the singer.Bless his soon-to-be-groom best friend, Jiyong can finally meet the wedding singer.(Or this honest summary by yours truly:A story about two Gary Stus who meet and fall in love.)





	1. You and Me

**Author's Note:**

> Initially published on asianfanfics.com under the same title; un-endited. Apologies for mistakes and errors.  
> Rated Mature since Chapter 11 contains an explicit sexual content.

 

"And I don't know why, I can't keep my eyes off of you."  
Lifehouse, _You and Me_

 

* * *

Forrest Gump once said that life was like a box of chocolate and we would never know what we would get. Jiyong has been doubting it because, “Well, it’s obviously a box of chocolate. What else will I get aside from _chocolate_? For God’s sake, it wasn’t Harry Potter world and Mr. Gump wasn’t talking about Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans.”

However, life is indeed full of surprise and only for one moment in Jiyong’s life, he thinks that what the fictional character has said was true when he saw _him_.

The first time Jiyong saw the man was when he unwillingly attended a wedding of his colleague, Youngbae. It’s not like he hated it, but Kwon Jiyong is a kind of man who never understands why people are willing to spend thousands of dollar only for one day, trying to please people they don’t always see every day on something called a wedding.

If it was his wedding, Jiyong would’ve made it a smaller, simpler, and _obviously_ cheaper one attended by nobody but the officiant, him, and his spouse. But first, he needs to find a bride first—or a groom, because his sexual preference opts for the latter.

But after he saw him—or _found_ him? That’s one question Jiyong keeps asking to himself—Jiyong changed his mind. Now, he wants the man, who sang oh so beautifully on Youngbae’s wedding, to attend his too.

 

*

 

Even though Jiyong is not a man who wills to spend his fortune for his (future) wedding, his best friend, Seunghyun, doesn’t share the same view… except for one thing.

“Uh-oh. No.” Jiyong gives his groom-to-be best friend a sharp look while sipping his black coffee. The wall clock reads 5:00 P.M. and Seunghyun is still in his office attire when they decided to meet up—or it’s more like Seunghyun dragged Jiyong out from his apartment—in a coffee shop nearby.

“Please?” Seunghyun slightly pouts his lower lip, rounds his eyes, and raises his thick eyebrows; giving Jiyong the supposed-to-be puppy eyes he believes can convince his best friend of ten years to change his mind.

Jiyong puts his white porcelain cup on the saucer and shakes his head stubbornly. “No. How many times should I say no to that?”

“But it’s the only way so Dae and I can save our money for other things, Ji. The wedding venue itself has cost us almost half our budget.”

Crossing his arms on his chest, Jiyong leans his back against the back of the navy blue armchair with a frown still drawn on his face. “My only suggestion is: find a cheaper venue so you can finally afford to hire a professional wedding planner.”

“Can’t. We’ve been dreaming to have our wedding on the ranch the very first time we went there. The old oak tree will be a great place for Dae and me to tie the knot. With only about 50 people to attend, we can use it for the reception right away.”

“My answer’s still no? It’s not my wedding anyway.”

Seunghyun pushed his body closer towards the black-haired man sitting across the round coffee table. “But it’s your _best friend’s_ wedding.”

Jiyong shrugs without a care. “Still. Not mine. Besides, your wedding’s only four months to go. No time.”

Both of them exchange a silent look until Seunghyun sighs his defeat. “Alright, if that’s what you want. It’s your loss anyway.”

Jiyong sneers, thinking that Seunghyun’s sulk is only one of his childish acts. _And I cannot believe that this mentally toddler grown-up’s going to marry someone this summer…_ “Why? Why should it be my loss?”

The other man raises his body off the chair and fixes the coat he’s wearing, giving Jiyong a small smirk enough to emerges his dimple. “I’ve asked someone to sing on my wedding.”

‘Sing’ and ‘wedding’; those two words are enough to call for Jiyong’s attention. It is like a ruler is being shoved into his ass once he straightens his back, calling for a wide grin that nearly splits Seunghyun’s face in two. “Yeah. And…?” Raising his gaze, Jiyong narrows his stare in suspicion.

“But you’ve said you weren’t interested to be my wedding planner, so…” The tall man gives a hint that he’s about to leave once he’s done wrapping his neck with his maroon muffler. “I’ll see you—”

“Wait, Hyun! For fuck’s sake, wait.” _Dammit, is Seunghyun trying to trick me?_

The smirk, once again, appears on Seunghyun’s face, raising a corner of his mouth. “Hmm? What? You’ve said no, haven’t you?”

The fake obliviousness in Seunghyun’s voice triggers an annoyed winch on Jiyong’s face, but he decides to let it past him because he wants to fish out something more important from the tall man standing across him. “You’ve hired _a_ wedding singer?”

“No, Jiyong. I’ve found _the_ wedding singer.”

 

*

 

 _I’ve sent the files to your e-mail. Good luck, Mr. Wedding Planner! x_  
From: Seunghyun, Choi (8:04 P.M.)

 

 _Woops, sorry. His contact’s attached to the e-mail too. Be nice to him, awkay? x_  
From: Seunghyun, Choi (8:05 P.M.)

 

Even after befriending the man for ten years, Jiyong still hasn’t got used to the ‘x’ mark Seunghyun leaves in every message sent to him. When Seunghyun started dating Daesung four years ago, he was once dragged into the couple’s fight because the latter thought Jiyong was something more than just a best friend—something Jiyong laughed at loudly upon thinking how ridiculous the assumption was. Seunghyun followed with his baritone chuckle and Daesung joined them after he fully understood how silly his accusation was.

Once the problem was solved, Daesung, following his boyfriend’s antics, also marks his message to Jiyong with a small ‘x’ until now.

Jiyong opens his laptop and clicks on the icon that opens his internet browser. He accesses his mail and opens the said e-mail Seunghyun mentioned in his text.

“Geez…” An invisible hammer suddenly throbs his head mercilessly upon seeing how many files attached to the e-mail. Even so, his movement immediately halts the moment his eyes read one particular file Seunghyun named ‘Jiyong’s Wedding Singer lol.pdf’. Jiyong moves the cursor to the file, but he isn’t ready to open it yet.

The black-haired man takes a deep breath, remembering his conversation with Seunghyun only a few hours earlier.

 

~

 

“How?” Jiyong whispered in disbelief.

“How what?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, dumbass!”

The tall man chuckled when he was being pulled back to his chair hastily by Jiyong’s solid grip around his wrist. “What do you want to know? How I found him?”

“Yeah,” Jiyong rolled his eyes, “laugh all you want. You owe me an explanation.”

The laughter didn’t fade even though Seunghyun’s back was still shaking. The man peeked from his slightly lowered head, covering his mouth. “About what? About the wedding?”

“Of course about the singer, moron!” Jiyong hissed. “Tell. Me.”

No answer came out from Seunghyun’s covered mouth as the man was still too busy composing himself. Jiyong glared him without a blink or a break, wishing that he had the power to read Seunghyun’s mind.

“Okay, okay. I’ll tell you…” A wide smirk carved on Seunghyun’s perfect face—that was what Jiyong often hears from people who saw his best friend, women and men alike—flashing a line of pearl-white teeth. “I’ll tell you about your so-called love of your life…”

“Shut the fuck up. I’ve never said that!”

“Oh? But your face tells me differently, Ji. Or did you just cover your face with something red without me knowing?”

Seunghyun was most likely right—Jiyong could feel how warm his face was and he bet his cheeks had turned beet red. “Enough. Now tell me!”

“Well, it’s not difficult to find your wedding singer, especially since you keep yapping about him almost every day. I can still remember the way you describe him, Ji. And I still wonder how come you get a detailed description even though you were seeing him from a distance: a tall man, probably about 170 centimeters, pale skin, auburn hair, voice like an angel, kissable lips, bright eyes, long lashes, plump ass that was still visible behind the jack—OUCH!!!”

Jiyong jerked his foot, landing a thud on Seunghyun’s calf, and hissed, “Enough with those shits. Just. Tell. Me. Already.”

“Why so impatient? Are you that determined to see him soon then fuck him? You don’t even kno—okay, okay! Tsk, you really have a bad temper, don’t you? And you keep saying I’m the childish one between us two…”

The other man placed the porcelain vase back to the table—an accessory the coffee shop put in every table—without breaking his eye contact. “This thing will really fly to your face if you don’t stop blabbering.”

“The world is a small place, Ji. Your colleague may not be mine, but his bride, apparently, is the key to answer the question of your love life. Who would’ve known that Dae has a friend working in a publication company whose friend was a neighbor of someone who happened to know someone who knew about the wedding because she was the wedding planner? Long story short, we were looking for a recommendation for a wedding singer and we found him. I swear to God I almost dropped my phone the moment I saw the guy—ask Dae if you don’t believe me.”

“…and you… Both of you… hired him?”

“The price was perfect, so why should we say no?” Seunghyun winked and stood up. “Must go now. Dinner with my fiancé. I’ll e-mail you things you need to work on as soon as possible, Mr. Wedding Planner. You’re not starting a new book, are you?”

No response came from Jiyong; his eyes were still staring at Seunghyun, but the stare inside them was blank.

The tall man shrugged, and the last thing he told Jiyong before he really left the coffee shop was, “His name is Seungri. Lee Seungri.”

 

~

 

 _Seungri…_ Jiyong mentally mentions the name. _Seungri, eh?_ He lets the taste of the name fills up his head and chest, feeling how it makes him flutter.

It’s not like he is becoming a teenager whose hormone kicks him inside due to puberty once again. After all, he’s a 27-year old grown-up man who hardly believes in love at first sight because that’s one thing worth saving only for children. He has met and dated many men in his life, and his innocence about love has vanished many, many years ago, after breaking his heart for too many times.

But when he saw the man— _Seungri. His name’s Seungri_ , he notes to himself—who sang on Youngbae’s wedding so wonderfully, something inside his heart felt ticklish. To remember Seungri the way he saw him almost five months ago each time he tells Seunghyun about him, Jiyong cannot help but feel warm inside.

Jiyong realistically realizes that defining that weird feeling inside him as ‘love’ is something too soon; that’s why he restrains himself from using that word. Instead, he prefers something safer, such as ‘adoration’ or ‘admiration’, because Seungri did sing amazingly and his voice was almost ethereal for Jiyong.

 _What’s the chance of encountering a stranger for the second time?_ Jiyong wonders as he collects all his might to click on the file. _If it’s Seunghyun trying to pull a prank on me again, let him taste the wrath of Satan and the fire of Hell_.

Shutting his eyes tightly, Jiyong can hear that click sound amidst the silence of his bedroom. _One… two… three…_ He slowly opens the eyes, half-expecting to see a child-like drawing or anything like ‘congratulations, you’ve been pranked’—something a man like Choi Seunghyun is more than capable of doing.

Much to his surprise, he sees a file of clean white background with words printed on it—some of them are in cursive—and simple yet elegant decorative ornaments, both in golden. _It must be his business card_ …

 

 

 

> _Lee Seungri_  
>  _Wedding Singer_  
>  _+823876XXXXX_

 

Jiyong can feel the corners of his lips stretch upwards. Once again, the warmth fills him up.

 

*

 

People often think of his profession as an author is free from routine. Well, just because Jiyong can freely decide to stay awake to write all night, sleep when the sun rises, and wake up at noon, it doesn’t mean he has _no_ routine, right?

When people often mistake his routine as routine-less, they will call him for too many times and his phone will ring relentlessly for minutes every morning. And Jiyong will only bury his head deep and deeper under pile of pillows and blanket, trying to muffle the loud voice ringing throughout the room— _Shit, should never forget to silent my phone before sleeping!_ is one thing he has been telling himself every morning, but he keeps forgetting—but it’s kind of weird for this day.

His hand searches for the phone, but he cannot find it on the nightstand.

“Shut uuuuuuuppp!!!” The man screams with his croaky voice, lifting his head from the softness of his bed upon realizing that he had to put his phone somewhere else before he slept. “Shit, shit, shit. Where the fuck is my phone?”

His mumbles and grunts keep going on for a few minutes afterwards, until he finally finds his phone under his bed. _Geez_ , still drowsy from his interrupted sleep, Jiyong inspects his phone. _Had to accidentally tip it when sleeping…_

The phone perching in his hand is still ringing, screaming the standard ringtone set by the system—because Jiyong was too lazy to change it—and showing the caller’s name clearly on the phone screen.

“Choi fucking Seunghyun,” Jiyong hisses as he put the phone on his ear. “What do you want from me so early?”

A heavy snicker is heard from the other side. “Early? It’s past 10:00 A.M., Ji. You’re probably the only one in the world who think it’s still early.”

“Shut the fuck up and tell me what you want already so I can go back to sleep!”

“You’re free today, aren’t you?”

Jiyong’s groan tells his best friend a ‘yes’.

“Good. Then I want you to meet someone at noon. He’s the one in charge of the wedding cake so please come on time, okay? I don’t want my wedding guests to be sent to hospital because of your mistake. And don’t forget that you need to meet the florist because I insist to have 1,396 red rose petals covering the aisle. Tell the florist to give the possible cheapest price or I’ll burn his garden if he insists on giving us the same figures he showed me last week. Then—”

“I’M YOUR GODDAMN WEDDING PLANNER NOW SO IT’S ME WHO TELL YOU WHAT TO DO, OKAY??!!!??!!” Jiyong ends the call, turns his phone off, and resumes his sleep.

 

*

 

Jiyong taps his foot relentlessly. A frown on his face is so obvious to see and he doesn’t stop checking on his phone. “Tsk. He’s fucking late,” he growls to nobody while averting his gaze to the door.

Per Seunghyun’s instruction, Jiyong has arrived in the same coffee shop they visited the day before, waiting for someone from the cake shop Seunghyun will be ordering the wedding cake from. Jiyong has texted the person, telling him to come at 1:00 P.M. and he’s been sitting inside the coffee shop for more than 15 minutes.

Another sip and Jiyong finds his glass of iced latte has been emptied out so he raises his hand, calling for a waiter so to order another glass of drink. His eyes are pinned on the menu as the man reads it thoroughly— _Hmm… coffee? Or tea? I don’t really need coffee today, and this green tea latte looks great_ —so only the periphery of his sight that catches a pair of legs that obviously belong to a man.

“I’m going to order…”

Jiyong is not destined to finish his sentence since when he raises his head, he’s seeing a man he only dares talk about for these past months.

“Are you Kwon Jiyong?” The pair of hazel eyes blink, batting the long lashes. The plumper lower lip is slightly separated from the upper one, and the corners of his mouth curl up as if the man is meant to look as if he’s always smiling even though he doesn’t do anything. “I’m sorry for being late. I missed my taxi while baking in the kitchen …”

But the words coming from the man with auburn hair standing near him are transformed into meaningless sound Jiyong cannot fully comprehend. What his brain capable of processing is how each sound rings like the most beautiful music that passes through his auditory system and refuses to leave his head.

Jiyong opens his mouth and the only word that slips out is the name he's been reciting since the night before. “Seungri…”

 

* * *

 

 


	2. Latch

“How do you do it? You got me losing every breath.”  
Sam Smith, _Latch_  
 

* * *

 

“Seungri…”

Jiyong blinks for a few times, but nothing he’s seeing changes every time he opens his eyes. Seungri’s face is still what he sees, looking so real, so beautiful, so vivid… _And so, so close…_

“Uhh… Mr. Kwon?”

A hand waving before his face immediately brings the black-haired man back to his reality, and this kind of reality is still too good for Jiyong to believe. “Ah, I… I’m sorry… Well, please sit down. Please.”

So there they are, sitting across each other with one side is seemingly fully oblivious about what the other one is feeling right there and right now. The waiter approaches them and Seungri is lowering his head, scanning the menu carefully. With only a small, rounded coffee table separating them, Jiyong can easily see how glowing the other man’s pale skin is and how long the lashes are. His eyes also catch a tint of rosy red on the cheeks. His auburn hair captures the sunlight entering through the window near them beautifully, letting each strand shine out.

Not to mention his voice; even the way he says, “One glass of iced caramel cappuccino, please,” is too endearing for Jiyong.

“And you, Sir? Do you want to place another order?”

“Ah… Yes… I… wait, I want to order…” Jiyong’s eyes hurriedly read through the words printed on the menu, but everything suddenly becomes scrawled as his brain seems to stop working for a moment.

“Jasmine tea for him.”

“Hm?” Jiyong lifts his stare, feeling surprised. “Ah… right. Jasmine tea, please. With ice. And… and unsweetened.”

Seungri’s side figure is the next thing Jiyong stares at when the other man listens to the waiter who’s double-checking their order. The ever-smiling lips part as Seungri says a word or two, followed by a nod and another smile. Then their eyes meet, and Jiyong feels as if he’s about to faint for losing his breath.

“Again, I’m sorry for being late, Mr. Kwon.” He reaches out his right hand, gesturing a handshake. “I’m Lee Seungri, and I assume you already know my name?”

Jiyong has no idea what he’s doing, but he feels his right arm stretches out and the hand wraps the other one in a firm handshake. “Ah, yes… Seunghyun has told me earlier.” He coughs, clearing the lump that pops out mysteriously in his throat.

“As my token of apology, today’s meeting will be on me. I’m really, really sorry for making you waiting, Mr. Kwon.”

 _But the waiting worth it!_ “No, it’s okay. And… can we drop the formality? It’s weird to be called like that, even my colleagues never call me by my last name. Just call me Jiyong.”

The way Seungri’s smile forms quickly reminds Jiyong of a cat, and that adds more appeal in Jiyong’s eyes. “Alright. Then you can call me Seungri. So, today we will discuss the price—”

“Wait,” Jiyong cuts; a thought suddenly comes across Jiyong’s mind once he fully understands the situation he’s being in. “Aren’t you the one who will be singing in Seunghyun and Daesung’s wedding?”

Seungri, holding his tablet, slightly tilts his head as he softly titters. “About that… yes. But the matters regarding my fee as wedding singer and the songs to sing have been settled weeks ago, Jiyong.”

Jiyong blinks and he hardly keeps himself from not holding his throbbing chest upon hearing his name slipping out from Seungri’s cat-like mouth.

“Today, I come as the owner of White Rabbit, the cake shop I own.” Seungri resumes whatever he was doing earlier with his tablet; his finger swipes and taps the screen. “And according to the appointment Mr. Choi and I have made earlier, we’ll be discussing about the price today.”

 _So he sings and bakes? God had to forget to sprinkle a dash of flaw or two when He created this human being!_ “Yeah… yeah, I’ve been told about that. So, Seunghyun insists on spending the same amount he mentioned before.”

Seungri sighs. “Just between us, okay? Mr. Choi really is frugal, isn’t he? On the other side, Mr. Kang seems to be more flexible than his fiancé.”

“I know, I know… Seunghyun’s always been like a housewife since forever. He’s so stingy with money but once he finds something he really, really likes, he’s willing to spend as much money as possible to get it.” Jiyong chuckles while remembering his last trip to Hawaii with Seunghyun last year, when the latter had to pay for the extra luggage because he bought too many floral wreaths. “He’s kind of a hoarder too. I wish you’ll never see what’s inside his wardrobe.”

Seungri’s laugh joins in, ringing clearly like the bell chimes inside Jiyong’s head. “If you say so, then I wish I won’t.”

The creases formed on the corners of Seungri’s eyes as the man laughs captivate Jiyong in a way he has never thought of. “So, about the cake…”

“Yeah, five-tiered wedding cake with the one on the base as large as… as that painting, maybe?”

Jiyong’s eyes follow the direction Seungri’s forefinger is pointing at; there’s an abstract painting hanging on the wall. “Whoa, that’s so huge. It’s about 1 meter, I think…”

“Indeed. And Mr. Choi has been demanding for five tiers. _Five_.” Seungri massages his temple as he reads through something his tablet is showing—perhaps the details of Seunghyun’s order—and Jiyong can see how chubby the fingers are. “And don’t forget the details he wants for the cake decoration: flowers, toppers, fondant… All in red.”

 _So cute… How come those fingers are so squishy?_ He snickers, amused by his own thought, but then pretends to cough once he catches Seungri’s confused stare directed at him. “Ah, yes… Five tiers. That’s… so many…”

“Your order, Sir.” The same waiter appears without a sound and places two glasses—each one for them. “Is there anything you w—”

Everything happens rather quickly since Jiyong doesn’t pay attention, but the next thing he knows is how the coffee table surface has turned into a puddle. Jiyong quickly rescues his phone, wiping it off from the water. _It’s not soaked. Good_ , he sighs in relief. On the wooden coffee table, he sees Seungri’s glass tipped over and the waiter is busy cleaning up the surface.

The redness on Seungri’s cheeks is too noticeable, along with the rounded eyes that beam fluster and worry. “I… I’m so, so, so sorry, Jiyong. Is your phone okay? Uhh… Another glass of caramel cappuccino, please...”

A few minutes later, the table is clean once again, but Seungri’s pale cheeks are still beet red. Jiyong smiles.

“I’m sorry, Jiyong. I only wanted to reach for the glass but… but my hand… suddenly it toppled the glass…” The nervous smile is carved on Seungri’s face. “Are you sure your phone’s okay? I don’t want to make it the third phone I’ve broken in a month…”

The smile on Jiyong’s face doesn’t falter. Rather, it widens instead with a realization comes across his mind. “No, really. I took it at the right moment, Seungri.” _So he’s a klutz! God did remember to give him flaws!_

It may sound weird, but Seungri’s clumsiness is a good sign for Jiyong. At least, the man he first saw singing beautifully on Youngbae’s wedding really is a _human_. It eases Jiyong, eliminating the worry if he ever have to go through the dilemma from having to take Seungri’s wings out if the singer-slash-baker was really an angel just like Jiyong had thought of before.

 

*

 

“Okay,” Seungri coughs, “So, about the cake, what’s Mr. Choi’s proposal, aside from insisting the same price?”

“Well, since I’m the wedding planner and Seunghyun is a dumbass, I’ll be here to get shits straight. This means I’ll take over.”

A soft chuckle slips out from the auburn-haired man as Jiyong calls his best friend ‘a dumbass’, curling up the cat-like mouth even further. “With the same budget Mr. Choi proposes, we actually can only make a two-tiered cake… that, if he insists on keeping the cake the same size.”

“And he wants five.”

“Yeah, _five_. How many wedding guests are invited anyway? The base itself can feed… hundreds, I think.”

“Well… since I’ve become the wedding planner only yesterday, I have no the exact figure. But he told me there’d be 50 people in the wedding yesterday…”

“Oh?” The hazel eyes are rounded, so is Seungri’s mouth. “I’m sorry if this may offend you, but are you a—”

“No.” Jiyong sighs. His hand reaches for the glass of iced tea Seungri ordered for him earlier, guzzling down the liquid since his throat keeps drying mysteriously. “I’m not a professional wedding planner. Just an unlucky guy who befriends a mentally-toddler man named Choi Seunghyun, who surprisingly will finally get married to his boyfriend. He’s the epitome of being thrifty, remember?”

“That’s… so lucky of you?” The lips tremble as Seungri softly laughs. With his eyes and hands are still busy with the tablet, Jiyong assumes it’s safe for him to steal a glance—or two, or three, maybe—at the other man. “Well, my only suggestion is to downsize the cake. There’ll be only 50 people, right? Unless Mr. Choi wants to send his guests to hospital for diabetes after serving them platefuls of cake.”

Jiyong doesn’t break his stare at the man sitting across him, especially at the lips that slightly parts. _Oh, I don’t mind getting diabetes from kissing those lips all the time... And those eyes; aren’t they so bright and beautiful? The color… it looks like sweet milk chocolate drink; be sure to drink a cup every night before sleeping, Jiyong. Then the milky white skin... how will it taste, eh? Oh, and don’t forget—_

“Hello? Jiyong? Earth to Jiyong! Earth to Jiyong!”

— _don’t forget his sweet, sweet voice. Imagine how soft his whispers on your ear, Jiyong. Damn, why does the chair suddenly feel hard and uncomfortable? Well, speaking of hard…_

CLAP!!! “Jiyong, do you hear me?”

Startled, the black-haired man straightens his back right away. Jiyong blinks and finds Seungri leaning his body towards him—not so close because of the coffee table between them, yet close enough to bring him back to his too-good-to-be-true reality. “Y-yes?”

“Are you okay? I think you’ve spaced out too often… Have you had your lunch?”

Jiyong feels his mouth open, but nothing he can manage to say. Thus, he simply nods and clears his throat.

The hazel eyes watch the other man with doubt obvious to see, as Seungri forms wrinkles on the space between his brows. “Are you sure? You don’t seem well, I suppose…”

“Nah, it’s… it’s okay.” Jiyong shrugs and empties his glass of tea. “Maybe because the lack of sleep. Well, what did you say earlier?” _How can I focus on Seunghun’s shits when it’s you the one sitting so close to me, Seungri???_

Seungri pulls himself away and rests his body on the back of the armchair, yet his stare isn’t averted from the man sitting across him. “I said I might think some alternatives to meet Mr. Choi’s budget. Maybe I’ll e-mail the details to you tonight. Please,” the man hands his table to Jiyong, “type in your e-mail address here. And what about testing the cake this… Saturday? Will you be free?”

“This weekend? Alright. I’m always free, actually.” Jiyong smiles while handing the gadget back to its owner. _And even if I’m not, I’ll always make sure that I am_ …

“Right… It’s not your job anyway.” The other man chuckles and raises his hand, calling for the waiter to get the bill ready. “And no, today’s meeting is on me, remember?”

Jiyong pockets his wallet back; the smile doesn’t vanish. “Remind me to pay you back, Seungri.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll still see each other until the wedding day, Jiyong.” Slightly tilting his head, Seungri winks then stands up. And Jiyong, who’s raising his body too, cannot help but throw himself back to the armchair because he swears his legs suddenly turn into a pair of jelly.

 

*

 

It doesn’t take long for Jiyong to unleash his annoyance once Seunghyun accepts his call. “Where the hell are you? I’ve been sitting here for almost 30 minutes and just emptied out my glass of beer. Don’t tell me I’m being stood up by a worthless piece like you!”

“Hi, Jiyong!”

“Oh?” The man immediately recognizes the voice. “Daesung?”

The laughter mixes with the warmth is the next thing coming from the other end of the phone call—Daesung has all the kindness in the world, according to Seunghyun. “We’re sorry, Jiyong. Your best friend insisted on picking me up first before seeing you, so now we end up taking a detour because the traffic’s always crazy from my of— _Baby, don’t do that!_ ”

Daesung’s squeal is soon replaced with a deep voice still full of laughter. “Hey, Kwon Jiyong!”

Jiyong can feel how his lips twitch upon hearing his friend’s voice. “If you wanted to fetch Daesung first, you could’ve told me to see you an hour later, dumbass!”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. You know how I can forget everything else when it comes to Dae, eh?”

“Geez…” Jiyong can only hiss when he hears Seunghyun’s low hum and maybe a smooch or two; the lovebirds must be in a taxi and Seunghyun isn’t driving his car today. “You two, done kissing?”

Seunghyun jeers. “Don’t be so frigid, Ji. I’ll pay your dinner because I’m being so generous tod—”

“ _Bullshit_ ,” Jiyong hums as he lights the cigarette slipped between his pursed lips.

“No. Really. Because I want to know how the meeting went between my best friend and the love of his life…”

From the way Seunghyun speaks, it’s not difficult for Jiyong to imagine the mischievous smirk and the dimples emerging on his face, as well as the creases on Seunghyun’s forehead as the man raises his thick eyebrows before wiggling them. “Just. Come. Here. Quickly.”

Jiyong blows the smoke after ending the call, feeling the rush of heat on his neck and cheeks with a mere thought of Seungri.

 

*

 

“Uh-oh. No, Ji. Remember?” Seunghyun gives him a look.

“Oh, right. Sorry, I forgot…” Jiyong shrugs and puts his box of cigarette back into his pocket. “It’s been a while since I met Dae.”

The muscular man with copper-colored hair and a pair of crescent-shaped eyes, whose hand seems to be glued to Seunghyun’s since the day the couple were born, only smiles. “No, it’s okay. Our author here must be so happy to finally finish and publish his latest book so he can’t help but smoke as often as possible.”

Before Jiyong can even say anything, the waiter comes to the table they share, delivering their orders. Jiyong didn’t waste the chance from Seunghyun’s (extremely rare) generosity so he treated himself with rib-eye steak and coffee—even though he actually no longer needs a large dose of caffeine as he isn't working on a new book, but the restaurant they’re visiting is the only place that serves civet coffee.

“Let’s skip the chit-chat,” Seunghyun smells his wine, his eyes peek from the perimeter of the wine glass he is holding, “and hit straight at our highlight today: how’s Seungri?”

Daesung smiles widely, deepening his small eyes, upon hearing Seunghyun’s question. “Right, right. Tell me all the details, Jiyong!”

It feels like the slice of meat Jiyong just fed himself has swollen immediately, choking him from inside. Frantically, Jiyong scrambles his hand on the table, trying to find his glass of water. “D-damn it, Hyun!” The man hisses and guzzles down the remaining water in the glass. “Aren’t you supposed to ask about the cake and the flower instead? Besides, why didn’t any of _you_ tell me that your baker and singer was the same person?!??”

Daesung throws his head upwards as he unable to hold his laughter any longer. “Oh, Jiyong! You should see how red your face is now!”

“Told you, Baby!” Seunghyun, with his playful smile carved on his face, glanced at his fiancé. “Jiyong always turns into a tomato whenever we talk about Seungri. The only difference is how flustered this dude is right now, while never stops yapping about the beautiful wedding singer he saw on his friend’s nuptial.”

“Whatever. Just… whatever.” The man who’s being the subject of tease can only roll his eyes and put his cutleries back on the plate. “In case you’re wondering, the florist finally agrees to give you 1,396 red rose petals for the aisle with a discount. And about… the cake…” Jiyong pins his stare at half-eaten steak sitting on the porcelain white plate in front of him, fidgeting.

“Yes? What about… _the cake?_ ” Seunghyun asks the man sitting across him, and Jiyong doesn’t have to look at his best friend to see what kind of expression he shows. Meanwhile, Daesung’s small laughter can still be heard.

The black-haired man shrugs. “Well, with your budget, a five-tiered cake with the base as wide as a football field’s absolutely impossible, Hyun. And remember that your wedding will be a small one.” A quick glance and Jiyong can see how wide the smirk has turned into on his best friend’s face; Jiyong wishes it will actually split Seunghyun’s face to two.

“Aww… really?” Seunghyun jeers, and Daesung bursts into laughter once again. Only a moment later, the soon-to-be husbands shriek in pain and surprise as they feel a thud on their leg.

“Now,” Jiyong resumes his dinner, “tell me why none of you didn’t tell me about Seungri who’s apparently _also_ your baker.”

The man sitting in front of Jiyong jeers and continues his dinner as well. “Oh, where’s the fun in spoiling everything to you, my dear best friend Kwon Jiyong?”

“Ignore him, Jiyong.” Daesung gives his fiancé a brief stare and exchanges a smile. “We had no idea that Seungri was a baker too until we came to his cake shop a few days after we met him to talk about the songs to sing. Life really is full of surprise, isn’t it?”

“And you,” Seunghyun points at Jiyong using a fork with a slice of salmon stabbed on it, “are a moron when it comes to chasing a guy. I knew you wouldn’t call him right away even though I gave you his contact, so I arranged the meeting without telling you.” A second later, the salmon has disappeared as the man puts it into his mouth.

“Besides, you’ve been a single for too long, Jiyong. It’s never a bad idea for you to meet new guys. Now, we can save money from hiring a professional wedding planner and Seunghyun’s best friend may try his luck in his love life. Isn’t it a great plan?” The copper-haired guy sitting next to Seunghyun gives Jiyong a playful wink.

Amidst the chew, Seunghyun continues, “But what makes me more curious is one thing, Ji. How did you manage to convince the florist to give you a discount?”

“That’s an easy thing to answer, Mr. Choi.” Jiyong gives a glance before feeding himself a slice of meat. A chuckle escapes from his mouth, which forms a smirk a split-second later upon remembering the brief meeting he had with the man. “I’m always smarter than you are, remember?”

“Yeah… yeah…” Seunghyun mocks. “Said by person who used to desperately wish to re-encounter a stranger he had no guts to approach—and no, you’re not going to kick me again this time, Kwon Jiyong!”

 

*

 

_Subject: Mr. Choi’s Wedding Cake_   
_From: Lee Seungri [seungri.lee @ mail.com]_   
_To: Kwon Jiyong [jiyongkwon @ mail.com]_   
_Date: 26 March 20xx (8:03 P.M.)_

_Hi Jiyong!_

_Attached to this e-mail is some alternatives I’ve planned for the wedding cake that can meet Mr. Choi’s budget range._   
_About cake tasting this Saturday, what about you come to my shop around 3 PM? The coordinate’s also attached below._

_Warm regards,_   
_Seungri_

 

* * *

 


	3. Start of Time

“I’m an atom in a sea of nothing, looking for another to combine.”  
Gabrielle Aplin, _Start of Time_

 

* * *

 

 

The dinner turned into something similar to a girl’s night out; at least that’s the impression Jiyong made in his mind when he saw Seunghyun and Daesung didn’t stop squealing and yapping and questioning him about his uber-short meeting with Seungri in the afternoon. The couple giggled like teenage girls at anything Jiyong said about Seungri, even though what he told them was nothing more than, “He’s actually a klutz. His voice is way more beautiful to listen to closer. And we’ll meet again this Saturday to taste the cake. Is there any of you who care to join us? It’s your wedding, after all.”

As much as Seunghyun wanted to make the most of the opportunity to eat his forever-favorite sweet treats—plus, _for_ _free_ —Daesung immediately poked his soon-to-be husband and told him to let Jiyong deal with it alone. Because, “What’s the point of asking him to be our _wedding planner_ if Jiyong cannot do it himself?”

Or, if Jiyong should translate it, the reason was something more like, “It’s Seungri we’re talking about, the man Jiyong cannot stop talking about for months! Let him meet the man alone so they can fuck each other until they can no longer stand!”

That’s why the dinner ended with Seunghyun telling his best friend that he shouldn’t only taste the cake this Saturday—something to which Jiyong responded with a blow aimed at Seunghyun’s stomach.

 

*

 

 _Seungri, it’s Jiyong. Sorry for texting this late. I got your number from the business card Seunghyun sent to me. Communicating via text’s more practical, IMO. About this Sat, I’m fine with 3 PM. See you!_  
Sent to: Seungri, Lee (9:57 P.M.)

 

 _Hi Jiyong! It’s OK, you’re not the one still awake hahaha_  
 _Good night._  
From: Seungri, Lee (9:59 P.M.)

 

 _And rest well!_  
From: Seungri, Lee (9:59 P.M.)

 

Already in his boxer shorts and old white tees, and laying on his bed, Jiyong can’t help but smile widely upon reading Seungri’s replies. He wishes himself and the man whose images of shiny auburn hair and lips still being replayed in his mind to sleep well too.

Well, maybe Kwon Jiyong is being his old teenager self once again and he doesn’t mind it at all.

 

*

 

One thing Jiyong needs to be grateful for about the whole deal regarding Seunghyun and Daesung’s wedding—aside from the surprising fact about Seungri, of course—is how most important things have been dealt with. The couple has booked their wedding venue (of course), officiant, caterer, wedding suits, and such. The rings have been ordered too. Guest lists have been made and the invitations are sent already, and all Jiyong needs to do is waiting for the RSVP to arrive. Wedding theme itself has been decided; Seunghyun mainly wants everything in red, making Jiyong wonder if he ever should dub the nuptial “The Red Wedding”.

Even so, it doesn’t mean Jiyong can slack. Bookings are indeed already made, but the details mostly are still undecided yet. And with the wedding is only four months to go, the next three days since the last time Jiyong met Seungri for the first time are packed with going places to meet people and vendors.

But Jiyong, regardless of how grumpy he may turn to be, doesn’t really mind it. Why should he when each day passed means Saturday is getting closer? Even though the florist, Lee Seunghoon, still has enough guts to talk back even after Jiyong threatened to kidnap his dog if he didn’t agree to provide 1,396 red rose petals at a discounted price, and the caterer of Daesung’s choosing insists on making Jiyong spend more by always offering additional menu each minute they talk, Jiyong manages to do all the things necessary to get the business done.

On Friday, Jiyong agrees to meet Daesung after office hour to visit a boutique specialized in wedding attire. The owner and designer, a man named Kim Jinwoo, welcomes them with warmth beaming from his doe eyes, and Jiyong has to admit that the man is most likely the only sane person he has met during the busy three days—in addition to Seungri, of course.

From their talk, it seems like Daesung is more leaning towards Jinwoo’s creations, even though (unsurprisingly) the price isn’t decided yet. The meeting goes rather briefly since the designer’s having a date and he promises to meet Jiyong on Monday afternoon.

After Jinwoo waving them goodbye before entering a black sedan where a black-haired man sitting on the driver seat, Daesung takes Jiyong to a pizzeria nearby for a dinner.

The waiter has left them and Daesung gives his friend a smile. “You look tired, Jiyong.”

Jiyong, feeling relieved after finally being able to sit down and relax, replies the smile“Yeah… kind of. Sleep deprivation, I guess… My biological clock still works in the same way when I was working on my latest book.”

“No wonder you no longer ordered coffee.” The copper-haired man snickers.

“Yeah… I need to live my life like any normal people do at least for once.”

“Aaaaaand… how’s Seungri?” The question makes Jiyong open his mouth automatically; a sight that calls for another smile from Daesung. “Come on, Jiyong… You’ve met him, he already knows you, and you got his number. What are you waiting for? This is another reason why Seunghyun wanted you to be our wedding planner, remember?”

“But… but our next meeting is to discuss about your wedding?” Jiyong shrugs, fiddling his fingers on the perimeter of the wooden table.

Daesung chuckles. “Well, then Seunghyun’s right when he always says that his best friend’s a fool when it comes to love.” Turning his head sideways, the man smiles friendlily at the waiter who comes to place their orders to the table. Daesung doesn’t say any single word to Jiyong until the waiter finally leaves. “Jiyong, I cannot say how much I thank you for agreeing to be our wedding planner, even though you may do it not completely voluntarily. And no, don’t deny it; I’ve been dating Seunghyun for almost four years and it’s enough to imagine what exactly Seunghyun told you when he asked you.”

Jiyong’s hand shoves a slice of pizza into his mouth for two reasons: he’s hungry and he really wants to keep himself busy so he may seem less nervous than he actually is. But he knows better that his body gesture can never lie—something that’s most likely the main reason why Seunghyun always finds him amusing to tease since the first day they met when Jiyong became the new kid in high school.

“I’ve been talking to Seungri for a few times and he’s a really nice man. I won’t be surprised if there are men and women alike who’re also infatuated with him. And yes, I’ve listened to him singing and no wonder you’ve been crazy about him!” The soon-to-be groom smiles before sipping his drink. “This is the chance, Jiyong. I’ve told you, right? It’s not a bad idea to meet a new guy, especially a man you’ve been talking about for months. It’s absolutely a rare opportunity. Go grab it!”

The other man shifts his body on the chair rather uncomfortably, chewing the food in his mouth slowly before swallowing it. “Uhh… I don’t know, Daesung. It’s been quite a while since the last time I… I feel like this? Everything’s too good to happen for real; I feel like I’m in a book or movie. And I think… just seeing him for the second time’s already enough?”

Daesung’s crescent-shaped eyes don’t falter as the wide, sincere smile still lingers on the man’s face. “This is why I’m the one who decided to go with you today, not Seunghyun. I just want to tell you that you have a one-in-a-million opportunity and wish that you won’t waste it. Both Seunghyun and I mean no harm, Jiyong.”

“Yeah, I know…” Jiyong murmurs. “I… I’ll consider your advice. Thanks, anyway.”

“No problem, Jiyong. I wish you nothing but the best; I thought it’d be fun if you’ve found the man on the other end of your string of faith at the wedding. But please, don’t take it as a burden for you.”

And the dinner resumes with a warm chat exchanged between Jiyong and Daesung, talking about everything regarding the wedding and their life. None of them mentions Seungri, but what doesn’t escape from Jiyong’s mouth doesn’t mean something he isn’t thinking about. Rather, his mind doesn’t manage to stop replaying the images of one particular man while he tries to think of a way to advance his relationship with him.

Jiyong glances at the warm chocolatey liquid inside his cup before guzzling it down. _I guess… I no longer need coffee? A cup of warm milk chocolate sounds a better choice to help me sleep at night anyway…_

 

*

 

“Strawberries.”

Jiyong groans with one hand rubbing the gunk from his heavy eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?” He whispers in his raw voice.

“Never come to your date empty-handed. Always bring something,” Seunghyun continues quickly, not caring if his best friend is still half-dead around 9:00 A.M.—plus, it’s _Saturday_. “So, strawberries.”

“Wh—” And the brief phone call is ended by the man on the other end, leaving Jiyong baffled and asking the question to himself, “What’s with strawberries?” But there’s no answer, for sure, so Jiyong only stares blankly at his phone screen while his half-asleep brain is slowly digesting the thing Seunghyun told him during the 20-second call that just ended earlier.

 _Strawberries?_ He tousles his black locks carelessly. Several blinks later, the sleepiness is still hanging on the corner of his eyes, so Jiyong does the most logical thing his half-asleep brain manages to processes: going back to sleep.

_Come… to your… date?_

The man is already wrapped once again beneath the comfort of his blanket when a vision of a smiling face with cat-like mouth greets him as Jiyong closes his eyes, along with the glowing, blushing cheeks, creases formed on the corner of half-shut hazel eyes, and bright auburn hair. It doesn’t take long for Jiyong to jump out from the bed, struggling himself to break free from the temptation of his comfortable bed to dash right to the bathroom, and then running to the street to stop a taxi.

The clock on his phone screen voicelessly tells him that it’s still around 10:00 A.M.—there are about five hours before his meeting with Seungri. But that’s enough time to make the first step he needs to do if he ever wants to be something more than just an acquaintance for the other man.

 _Geez_ … Jiyong’s eyes blankly stare at the vehicles passing his taxi from the opposite direction. _Seunghyun’s always right during the unexpected times_. Of course, that’s a thought he’ll never dare himself to tell his child-like best friend.

 

*

 

It feels like Jiyong is in a whole different world.

 _Alright, maybe I’m exaggerating it, but I’ve never had any single idea that a cake shop can be this… calming?_ Jiyong inhales the butter-scented smell, curling up his mouth upon feeling the comfort the atmosphere and place bring to him. Right after he entered White Rabbit, and the door closed quietly, there’s no kind of noise Jiyong hears. The cake shop is indeed located in one of the busiest places downtown, but there’s nothing that will remind people entering this place about it.

The soft instrumental music greets his hearing system and just like the quietness the place has, it seems like everyone inside the cake shop move gracefully naturally. White Rabbit itself isn’t a large space; in a brief glance, Jiyong mentally counts there are 10 rounded tables, tops, and all of them are occupied by people who apparently come to read, write, or chat quietly. The interior is ivory white with plenty of light entering through the tall windows with round top, which iron trellises are painted in black. There’s a sense of vintage vibe in this minimalist, clean space and Jiyong loves it right away.

Cakes of various shapes and sizes are displayed behind glass shelves, flanking a counter with black marble top. Adjacent to the wall is a series of cabinet where coffee maker is placed on top of it, and an open shelf displaying cute mason jars filled with coffee beans and decorative, colorful plates decorating the wall. A double-door silver refrigerator is perched next to a sink station. There are two people working behind the counter.

“Can I help you?” The man behind the counter greets him with a warm, friendly smile. His uniform is a simple black and white attire with a black bow tie wrapping around his neck and a clean white shirt covering his top.

Seeing what’s sitting on the guy’s head—a pair of white bunny ears--Jiyong can feel the corners of his mouth stretches even further. “Hello, Kwanghee,” Jiyong glances at the words written on the name tag attached to the man’s chest. “I’m Jiyong. Is Seungri here? We’ve had an appointment at 3:00 P.M.”

“Oh!” Kwanghee covers his mouth abruptly and his eyes rounded fully, as if whatever Jiyong has just said is equivalent to something like ‘you just won 1 million dollar, congratulations!’. “Oh! Oh! Oh!”

And that’s when the quietness filling up the air is disrupted as the other employee, a girl who’s been busy washing dishes behind Kwanghee, turns around. Just like the other employee, she’s also wearing white bunny ears, but with cute white maid-like dress featuring black apron. “Kwanghee, shut up! How many times should I tell you to stop squealing like a squirrel being run over by a car?!??” She hisses with annoyance thick in her voice.

“But… But Chaerin… It’s _him_!”

“ _Him_ who?” The girl is wearing thick eyeliner framing her eyes and her blonde hair shines brightly. “Oh,” her eyes meet Jiyong’s confused stare, “are you Boss’ new boyfriend?”

Turning his head slightly, Kwanghee makes a gesture as if he’s whispering on his workmate’s ear even though the volume of his voice tells differently. “I bet he _is_ , Chaerin. Why should you ask him once again? See the gift in his hand? _Nobody comes to his date without a gift!_ ”

“But I’m not sure, Kwanghee. He doesn’t look like Boss’ type, you know?”

“Well, according to the photo shown to us yesterday by Mr. Choi, this is—”

Jiyong, both baffled and annoyed by what the pair has been doing for the last few moments, snaps upon the mention of a name he knows so well. “Mr. Choi? Do you mean—”

“Kwanghee? Chaerin? What are you doing? Why did Kwanghee scream?”

A soft voice that immediately sends shiver down Jiyong’s spine quickly silences the black-haired man. His eyes immediately scan the wall and there that is, a face he keeps seeing almost all the time—even though he’s shutting his eyes—appears from behind the well-ornate wood and glass door.

Seungri beams. “Jiyong, you’ve arrived!”

And what can Jiyong do but smile back when the mention of his name slipping from the pair of those beautiful lips still has the same effect—turning his legs into jellies? “H-hey, Seungri…”

“I’ve told you,” Jiyong can hear Kwanghee’s not-so whisper once again, “that it’s _him_.”

 

*

 

The door closes and Jiyong lets the bright auburn hair lead him. It’s already late March and the actual temperature is still rather chilly outside while it’s supposed to be warmer already, yet Kwon Jiyong can feel how sweaty his palms are. All his eyes can see is flashes of red in his hands and Seungri’s hair—and, _okay_ , Jiyong has to admit that Seungri’s butt that sways in each step is also one sight that occupies him. The delicious scent of butter is stronger as Jiyong enters the room— _Maybe it’s the kitchen? Don’t know. Can’t think. Duh_.

Jiyong clears his throat. “I… I bring something for you, Seungri.”

Seungri, done dusting a bar stool sitting next to a steel kitchen island, gestures the other guy to sit there. “Oh? Thanks! What’s this?”

“Strawber—”

There are so many ways to express happiness—a smile, a laugh, enlarged eyes—but the genuine happiness is something often hard to describe. But that’s what’s being revealed before Jiyong’s eyes as Seungri beams so endearingly, his mouth forms an ‘o’, and rounded eyes—Jiyong swears he can almost see sparkles shot from the pair of hazel orbs. The way Seungri stares at the strawberries reminds Jiyong of how children look at chocolate or sweet candies; it simply speaks the genuine joy.

 _And how come a grown-up can still express such sincerity?_ Jiyong nibbles his lower lip, resisting an urge to squeeze the face in front of him out of his adoration.

“Strawberries!” Seungri shrieks in joy. “And see the cute basket. Thanks, Jiyong!”

Jiyong meets Seungri’s half-closed eyes, narrowed in happiness following the wide smile carved on the milky white face, and feels nothing but warmth overwhelming him. “You’re welcome…”

Their skin brushes slightly as Seungri takes the basket of fruit from Jiyong’s hand. Jiyong’s breath hitches and he’s on the verge of squealing when suddenly a loud cry snaps him back to the real world. “Eh? S… Seungri? Are… are you okay?”

The pastry chef, however, only flashes a grimace as he turns his head to face his guest. “No, I’m fine. Really… but this does hurt. I’m sorry, but your strawberries are safe!” With redness still staining his cheeks, Seungri resumes his walking and manages to reach the fridge safe and sound. However, it seems like Heaven doesn’t want one of its angels to look less human for Jiyong as the baker bumps his nose against the refrigerator door when he pulls it open.

 

*

 

Unlike Seunghyun, Jiyong is never an avid fan of sweet foods; something his best friend often mocks because Jiyong ‘already got the taste of bitterness in his bitter life’. And that afternoon, if it’s not because of his almost-good-for-nothing best friend’s wedding and Seungri, Jiyong might have given up already when the fourth spoon of cake enters his mouth.

“So…? What do you think about this one?”

Jiyong collects all his might not to vomit right away when Seungri’s bright eyes curiously stares at him, waiting for his response. _Dammit, all I can taste is sugar… What should I say?_ “Uhhh… can I have water?”

“Oh?” The eyes blink before Seungri averts his gaze to the island where a dozen of saucers are sitting on. “Oh my God, I’m sorry Jiyong. I must have forgotten to bring the water. Wait, I’ll get a bottle from the shop.”

Watching Seungri hurriedly walks towards the door, Jiyong only mumbles his it’s-okay-Seungri-but-please-hurry-or-I’ll-die-from-diabetes. A moment later, the baker returns with a bottle of water in his hand, to which Jiyong welcomes in relief.

“Okay, so… what do you think? The last one was chocolate butter.”

“I… well… it’s not because of the cakes taste bad, but…”

“But you don’t like sweets, right? Or, at least, you aren’t really into sweet foods.”

“Ho-how…” Jiyong feels his mouth open, but nothing comes out aside from his mumbles of ‘how’ and empty air.

An avalanche of embarrassment strikes Jiyong as Seungri chuckles and takes the saucer where a thin slice of chocolate butter cake was on earlier. “No, it’s okay. I didn’t miss your expression when you spooned the cake into your mouth earlier, Jiyong. So our choice won’t be something sweet, I think…”

“Ah, Seungri. I’m sorry…”

“No need to sorry,” the smile of assurance still lingers on Seungri’s face. “Drink again and I’ll let you taste the next ones; I swear it won’t choke you with sweetness. Promise!”

Jiyong guzzles the water, leaving the bottle half-empty and staring at another plate of cake. Just like the other four he has tested, this one is also bare. The color is brown-ish with a thin layer of frosting—most likely cream cheese frosting—covering the top of it. On another plate Seungri helds in his other hand, a slice of red-colored cake Jiyong knows very well perches on it.

“Carrot cake and red velvet. Mind to taste them? I promise they’ll be the last ones to taste since the rests are… well, they may be too sweet for you. And no, don’t feel sorry. Nothing to feel sorry about at all, Jiyong!”

“Actually, red velvet is my… favorite, as long as the frosting isn’t taste too sweet...”

“Really? Well, have we already found our choice?” Seungri puts the carrot cake back to the island and takes a clean pastry fork to slice the red velvet cake, stabbing a small cut and bringing it closer to Jiyong’s mouth. “And the color’s exactly what Mr. Choi wants for his red wedding.”

The next thing Jiyong knows is how moist the cake in his mouth is and how sweet Seungri’s smile is. Jiyong wonders if the pair of pinkish lips blooming in front of him will be the only sweetness he needs in life.

 

* * *

 

 

 


	4. Won't Stop

“You take this hand, you take this heart. Steal my bones from 1,000 miles apart.”  
OneRepublic, _Won’t Stop_  
 

* * *

 

 

Jiyong doesn’t lie if he’s still in awe; after all, he finally saw Seungri once again even managed to talk with him, only a few days ago. He doesn’t know what the probability of someone re-encountering the same stranger is, but he doesn’t really care about that, though.

 _Daesung’s right… and Seunghyun’s too._ The sound of water running from the faucet, drizzling his hands, creates a drum-like sound as each droplet splatters against the stainless steel sink. _If I ever wanted to see how this would turn out to be, I need to do something now_.

Jiyong’s ear catches the sound of the door closing and he turns his head towards the direction where the voice comes from. And there he is, the man he still believes as an otherworldly being enters the kitchen. Just like his employees outside—Kwanghee and Chaerin, and two more guys who greeted their boss earlier—Seungri’s wearing the same white shirt and black pants, along with black ribbon tied around his collar.

 _Sadly,_ Jiyong replies the smile Seungri gives him when their eyes meet, _why isn’t he wearing the bunny ears? They must look so cute on him!_

“Here’s the invoice, Jiyong. I’ve printed it. Three-tiered bare red velvet.” The baker puts a sheet of paper on the counter near Jiyong. “And _downsized_ ; of course I won’t forget it. Will you need me to e-mail it to you? For Mr. Choi?”

His hands are already dry and Jiyong throws the paper towel into a bin. “I think no. I’ll just take it to Seunghyun. But if you want to send me one, it’s okay. I cannot guarantee if the paper won’t end up in the washing machine anyway.”

Seungri snickers and nods. “Alright, I’ll e-mail you later.”

“Yeah…”

And then, nothing. Nothing’s said, nothing’s done. Jiyong awkwardly shrugs and stares at Seungri’s hand; it’s grabbing the edge of the stainless steel countertop on the kitchen island. Without having to lift his gaze, Jiyong knows Seungri’s body is facing him, but the other man doesn’t say anything either.

“I think I’ll go now.”

“Fancy a dinner now?”

Jiyong, already imagining himself hiding under the layers of blankets, swears his jaw nearly drops once he averts his stare at the man who owns the cakery. _Is he inviting me for a dinner? I’m not turning deaf, right?_ But Seungri’s rounded, bright eyes show nothing but an anticipation.

“There’s a Chinese restaurant around the corner. I don’t mind having someone to accompany me, but my employees… well, they’re working their shift right now,” Seungri continues. “Oh, but if you’re in a hurry and already having someone waiting for you, it’s fine. I won’t hold you. I forgot today’s Saturday… so you may already have a date?”

“No...” Jiyong coughs. “No, no. I… have nothing to do after this. It’s… well, I just realized how hungry I am actually!”

“Lovely! Let me grab my hoodie first. Wait for me outside, okay?”

Jiyong only mumbles his ‘yes’ as he watches Seungri disappears behind another door— _It has to be his office_ , Jiyong wonders. He stays there for a few moments later, thinking about a plan he’s had in mind before he met Seungri and wondering if he’d ever have the guts to ask the question to the man.

 

*

 

“Take care, Boss! Enjoy your dinner!”

Jiyong glances over his shoulder. Even though Kwanghee’s words are directed to Seungri, the eyes are staring at him; the same wide smirk is still there. The girl has disappeared once Seungri, who has worn his misty gray hoodie, walked out from the kitchen. She blurt out words like, “Boss, I’ve been late for a blind date so I need to go now. See you tomorrow!” before she dashed out from the cake shop. The other two guys—Jiwon and Hanbin—are busy exuding their smiles to their customers who come empty-handed, but go with at least a slice of cake carried in a box.

“Kwanghee’s my only full-time employee,” Seungri glances at Jiyong as they walk side by side among people who are ready to enjoy their Saturday night. It’s getting dark outside and the lights are on as the timepiece wrapping around Seungri’s left wrist shows about 6:00 P.M. “The others are still studying so they work part-time. My shop isn’t a large one and I focus on made-by-order cakes, just like Mr. Choi’s wedding cake.”

“But the place… looks great, for me.” Jiyong shrugs. “I’m not a kind of person who often spend hours in a coffee shop, café, or cake shop. Prefer working from my apartment, actually. Maybe that’s why Seunghyun often drags me out because I need to see sunlight… But White Rabbit… I like it. Should’ve known it earlier.”

Seungri politely nods at a couple of elders walking past them, giving his ever-radiating smile. To Jiyong, he explains, “They were my clients. Last month, I sang in their 20th wedding anniversary. And… if you don’t mind me asking you… what do you do, Jiyong? Oh, that’s the restaurant!”

The black-haired guy follows the direction Seungri’s finger points at and sees a crowded place with the typical Chinese restaurant decoration. “I’m a writer… an author.”

“Oh? That’s great! There are some writers who come to White Rabbit to work. They can sit all day since the place opens until it closes. Often they write, sometimes they do almost nothing but think or scribble, I think.”

Jiyong shrugs and mumbles something he hears as, “Great,” while putting his hands inside the pockets of his jeans. He glances at his own silhouette reflected by the store window, fixing his poster upon realizing how he has slightly hunched his back. A moment later, a savory smell greets his nostrils—the restaurant is nearing.

Seungri enters the restaurant and gives Jiyong a sign to follow him. “Table for two, please.”

Just like any typical Chinese restaurant, it’s a rowdy place full of the clangs of various cooking utensils, shouts from the kitchen, sizzling sounds made from frying the foods, and chatters among customers. In short, the restaurant is the exact opposite of White Rabbit. Once they settle on a less-than-crowded table snugged on the far corner, both of them quickly scan the words printed on the menu—pork chow mein for Jiyong and cashew chicken with rice for Seungri.

With the wall on one side, Seungri leans his back against it and stretches his legs—Jiyong can feel one of the other guy’s legs poking his own under the table. “And what do you write, Jiyong? Articles? Books?”

“Yeah… books. Well, sort of.” Jiyong tilts his head upwards and gives the waitress a nod before she puts glasses of drinks on the table. “I… write stories.”

“And what kind of stories do you… Wait a minute, I sound so nosey, don’t I? Geez, I’m so sorry Jiyong. You don’t always have to answer my questions anyway. I’m very, very sorry.” The singer-slash-baker fixes his position, sitting with his elbows rested on the table. “It’s just… you know, it’s really fun talking with you so it happened that way. But… you don’t seem comfortable talking about your job, so let’s end it anyway.”

Jiyong catches the glint inside Seungri’s hazel orbs, looking like a flicker of fire burning him from inside—maybe, just maybe, that’s the source of heat that often rushes him whenever he’s with Seungri. “No, it’s okay. I’m fine with that. It’s just… I often get mixed reactions when people know what I write.”

Seungri gives him a wondering look, but before he can say anything, someone cuts him. “Your order, boys,” calls the croaky voice of a middle-aged woman who stands by their table, literally slamming two plates on the table. “Pork chow mein and cashew chicken, right?” And that’s not a question as she immediately leaves the table upon hearing a shout from the counter.

Seungri beams seeing the hot foods in front of him—a sight that reminds Jiyong of the glee Seungri showed when he saw the strawberries Jiyong brought earlier. “Don’t mind the service, Jiyong. The foods taste great, I promise! But wait, our order’s swapped. I’ll—”

Just a split-second after Seungri reaches out his hand to lift a plate of chow mein, the food is spilling out and falls on the table and Seungri’s cashew chicken. Startled, Seungri accidentally tips the tea pitcher he and Jiyong ordered. Luckily, Jiyong’s quick enough to prevent the pitcher from falling from the table, but that’s not enough to keep a glass from toppling, though.

 

*

 

“You should’ve let me pay for your dinner, Jiyong!”

Jiyong squirms upon feeling the chill breeze swooshing his face, hunching his shoulders and fists his palms in hope to keep him tad warmer. Luckily, his maroon sweatshirt feels very warm against his body. Seungri walks on his side and doesn’t stop complaining about Jiyong who didn’t let him to pay for the dinner following the small accident prior to their dinner earlier. They’ve returned to join the crowd of pedestrians in downtown who are spending their Saturday night, walking side by side once again.

“That’s nothing, Seungri.” Jiyong chuckles as he glances at Seungri, who pouts his lower lip. _Add the pout to the cat-like mouth and you’ll see the cutest thing in life, Kwon Jiyong_ , he snickers at the thought “You’ve paid for my drink on our first meeting, so I couldn’t let you double my debt. Besides, it was counted as four servings. Couldn’t let you pay that much.”

“But…”

“No ‘but’s, okay?”

“Well… I’ll make sure you have me to pay you back. We’ll still meet until the wedding day, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah… four months to go, Seungri. We’ll see to that…”

“Don’t challenge me, Jiyong. And by the way, are you busy now? I mean, do you have someplace to go? Or a work to do? Mr. Wedding Planner must be very, very busy, right?”

Jiyong shakes his head. “Well, I… I plan to sleep once I’m home so… nothing.”

“Awesome! Mind to accompany me a little longer? I know it sounds like a random request but I need fresh air now and don’t intend to return to the shop right now. Is it okay for you?”

“Eh?” Jiyong turns his head sideways, but the auburn-haired man is no longer walking on his side. “Sorry,” he murmurs to someone walking behind him in a hurry for halting his walk suddenly. “Seungri?”

Seungri, standing a few steps behind, has his hands inside the front pockets of his hoodie and smiles. “Let’s take the different route.” His head signs at the opposite direction from the direction they’re initially heading to. A small smirk is formed on his face, igniting Jiyong’s curiosity. “I promise we won’t do anything, Jiyong. Just a walk around the block before we’re home.”

Jiyong walks towards Seungri’s direction and the other man greets him with a smile. Only a moment later, they’re walking side by side once again, with Jiyong suddenly being reminded of a plan he has in his mind.

“Sorry, Jiyong. I’ve been in the kitchen almost the whole day, baking and finishing cupcakes for a birthday party so I want to stay outdoors as long as possible.”

They pass a group of noisy teenagers who are walking out from a karaoke place, still singing songs while laughing at someone’s joke. Next to the karaoke place, a coffee shop oozes the calming smell Jiyong has been missing for days after he decided to cut down his caffeine, especially coffee, intake in order to sleep at night and wake up at normal hour—an attempt that’s still fruitless so far considering he started this new habit only several days earlier.

 _No coffee today, Jiyong. No coffee today. No coff—_ Jiyong feels the weight on his shoulder that halts him, and when he sees it, there’s a hand grabbing it. A squeal of “I’m sorry!” is the next thing he hears; without a doubt, that’s from a man who’s been walking next to him.

Just one touch, and—as always—it creates a wave of heat spreading throughout his body. “Are you…” Jiyong coughs. “Are you okay, Seungri?”

And the weight’s gone, but the aftermath doesn’t seem to disappear any sooner. “Nah, it’s okay. Sorry, though. I…” A grin is formed on Seungri’s bright face, and Jiyong can see a hint of embarrassment on it. “Well, even though we haven’t known each other for long, you already know this side of me, right? Not only do I topple things easily; I also often trip myself even when I’m walking on a flat surface.” Seungri glances over his shoulder and chuckle—Jiyong’s eyes savor the wrinkles on the corner of the eye formed by the wide smile. “Let’s go!”

 

*

 

The walk is comprised of nothing but a series of casual talks, dominated by Seungri who seems to have unlimited things to talk about—things such as, “Jiyong, look at the mint green paint color from this store! Do you think I should change the table color to this for spring?”, “Oh, see that lady? I sang on her wedding last year; it was so extravagant!”, “I think I want to buy a new pair of sneakers. Any recommendation?”, “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there… wait, aren’t you the one who bought black forest from White Rabbit last week? Yes, right, I’m the owner! Glad to know your child liked it!”, and “Sorry I trip myself again, Jiyong…”

The topics change quickly from time to time and Jiyong often finds himself almost has nothing to say. But he doesn’t mind to keep listening or answering the baker-slash-singer, as Seungri keeps talking with excitement and warmth in his voice.

“Aww, look at that dog, Jiyong! Isn’t it so cute?”

And there’s a dog, indeed—a golden retriever—sitting calmly in front of a restaurant. The dog’s tongue is out and, just like with any dog of this breed, it shows a friendly expression and stare. The tail wiggles, expressing the dog’s enthusiasm. Jiyong smiles seeing it; he’s always an animal person, especially dogs and cats, but he cannot afford to have one so he never has any. However, he doesn’t mind to sit his friends’ pets for a day or two when they’re traveling. Luckily, his apartment is animal-friendly.

Seungri walks ahead, but strangely he stops when he’s only a few steps away from the dog, who’s now staring at him with the same friendliness beamed from its eyes. The dog barks, but Seungri doesn’t take any step to get close to it. Jiyong follows and hunkers down to pet the dog; the collar around its neck has a name tag that reads ‘Pepper’.

“Hi, Pepper!” The dog responses to his name and licks Jiyong’s cheek happily—his tail wiggles faster in excitement. “Seungri, why stops there? Pepper’s really a cute boy! Aren’t you, Pepper? Aren’t you? Who’s the good boy here?” Jiyong’s arms are wrapping the animal, rubbing its body to which the dog replies with more licks and barks. “Eh? Seungri?”

With the laughter’s still escaping from his mouth, Jiyong turns his head around but only to find Seungri’s eyes pinned right at him. However, the auburn-haired man doesn’t budge; he’s still standing at the same spot and doing nothing.

“Pepper, that tickles! Okay, stop it. Stop it.” And the dog does stop his licking and sits quietly once again, keeping his friendly eyes at Jiyong, who’s raising his body. “Seungri, why so quiet? Pepper’s here,” he tilts his head slightly, gesturing towards the golden retriever, “so nice and he won’t bite you. Don’t you want to pet him?”

There’s still nothing coming out from Seungri’s mouth. Rather, he blinks once and Jiyong swears the next thing he sees is the flush tainting Seungri’s pale cheeks.

“Seungri? Are you okay? You look… red…”

“Don’t come closer, Jiyong. Just… don’t.” The redness on Seungri’s cheeks linger, but the gaze has turned into a serious one with creases forming on his forehead.

“Eh? Why?”

“Please. Just. Don’t.”

“Wh-wha—?”

“I’ll come to you. Just stand there.”

And Seungri takes a careful step, one by one. There are no more than three or four steps separating them. However, with Seungri walking like a zombie, it takes quite a while for him to reach Jiyong.

Jiyong’s hands, dangling on his sides, are suddenly grabbed by another pair in a tight grip. Startled, he mumbles something like, “S-Seung—,” but his eyes are too busy staring at a pair of hazel eyes that are getting closer to him as Seungri leans his face forward. Then everything seems to be like what’s in the movies, as things start to move in a slow motion, even though Jiyong’s heartbeat appears to be the only thing in a fast pace.

He sees Seungri’s lips, parting slowly, coming closer to him as the grip on his hands seems to be the only thing that ties him to reality.

The whisper is so soft, so warm against Jiyong’s ears, as Seungri says, “I think I stepped on Pepper’s poo, Jiyong.”

 

*

 

_Seungri, do you have a plan next week?_

 

_Hey, Seungri. Let’s have lunch next week. I know a pl_

 

_Seungri, don’t mind the dog poo. Just buy new shoes. What about next week? With m_

 

_Seungri, I’ll have another meeting with someone from the catering next week. Mind to accompany me?_

 

_I know a good place you’ll like (maybe). We can go there for lunch too. Or dinner. Or whatever because why you’re so nice and adorable and wonderful I cant stop thinking about you and why I should be destined to meet you again (yeah, with the help from Seunghyun and Daesung, yes I know that) and why I cannot ask you out and why I always act like this whenever I’m with someone I like and OMG Seungri I really really really really really like you I swear it’s_

 

Jiyong sighs and deletes the text he blurted out in frustration. Once the input field’s empty, he carelessly throws his phone to other side of his bed—the empty one, of course—and covers his eyes with his arm. _Just ask him out, Jiyong. Even if he says no, you can say that you sent the text to the wrong person like every loser out there!_

The man is still in his pity party when the phone suddenly rings—from the ringtone, it’s a message and not a call. Jiyong grunts, scrambling his hand on the empty space next to him. He peeks and opens the new message without bothering himself to read the name of the sender.

Once the message opens, he swears he almost gets a heart attack.

 

 _I’m sorry for the poo (T_T) and thanks for taking care of me earlier. Rest well for tonight and tomorrow because Mr. Wedding Planner definitely has a packed schedule for months! I wonder when we’ll meet again but I hope it’s soon. As always, it’s really nice to talk with you, Jiyong. Good night!_  
From: Seungri, Lee (10:07 P.M.)

 

 _Wait don’t drink coffee okay. You’ve told me you’re reducing your coffee intake! And don’t reply this message. Sleep now! >:0_  
From: Seungri, Lee (10:08 P.M.)

 

* * *

 

 

 


	5. Feel

“Just one feeling, then I know.”  
Bombay Bicycle Club, _Feel_

 

* * *

 

 

If Seungri has to use one word to describe a man named Kwon Jiyong, he will use ‘weird’… but in a good way. _Or interestingly weird_ , he’s amused by his own thought as he re-reads the words displayed on his phone screen while fixing his position on his sofa.

 

 _Don’t mind the poo. And don’t fall from your bed when sleeping, OK? Good night._  
From: Jiyong, Kwon (10:11 P.M.)

 

To be honest, Seungri’s still embarrassed by the Pepper’s Poo incident earlier. Because of that, Jiyong immediately took off his own shoes and forced Seungri to wear them, to which he refused… at first. But Jiyong was apparently a stubborn and kept insisting on making Seungri wear his sneakers. And then the black-haired man, walking barefoot, carried the poo-stained shoes in his hand as they returned to White Rabbit. Pepper woofed goodbye as they walked away—Jiyong even replied to it by waving his hand, not caring if his feet might feel cold.

That’s not the reason why Seungri finds the man interestingly weird, though. Seungri knows how much he loves talking and how he has the friendly demeanor towards strangers. But Jiyong… The author seems… normal—and Seungri still wants to know what kind of story his new acquaintance writes. Sometimes he doesn’t talk much, sometimes he does. When it’s something he obviously feels comfortable to talk about, Jiyong can say more—just like when they discussed about the wedding cake and Seunghyun.

Seungri, wearing his blue pajamas, puts his phone on the coffee table and turns his body sideways, trying to focus his attention on the TV. But he knows the small smile on his face doesn’t seem to falter any sooner as he thinks about Jiyong.

He assumes people may easily misunderstand Jiyong and Seunghyun’s relationship, especially if they don’t know that the latter’s going to be a groom in a few months. There’s a warmth in Jiyong’s voice when he talked about his best friend; something Seungri noticed from the first meeting. But seeing Jiyong’s expression even as he mocked Seunghyun, Seungri’s assured that their relationship is purely a platonic one. It’s just a brotherhood that develops after being friends for years.

That thought, strangely, eases his mind.

And Jiyong listens. He _does_. Seungri doesn’t really care if the words coming out from his mouth are actually being remembered by the other man, but Jiyong never shows any sign of irritation or boredom whenever Seungri starts blabbering. He may not show any expression— _He’s rather awkward, isn’t he?_ That’s one thing coming across Seungri’s mind since they first met—but he gives the right response; a sign that he _listens_.

But the most important thing that ignites Seungri’s interest in a man named Kwon Jiyong is the casual responses upon witnessing his clumsiness. It’s not like the cake shop owner doesn’t realize how clumsy he is. Instead, he’s fully aware of it, and so he also pays a close attention to people’s reactions on it.

He has met many men whether it’s for work or dating, and he quickly groups them into two categories. First is a bunch of men who think that his clumsiness is cute. Second is those who are rather impatient and find his clumsiness irritating.

Those under the first category often find the joy from treating Seungri as if he’s a little kid—he doesn’t mind being pampered by his boyfriend, but it’s different from being treated as if he cannot do shits. Meanwhile, men from the second category quickly lose interest in him as they’re rather annoyed whenever Seungri’s clumsiness attacks, thinking that Seungri’s too childish for a man of his age.

But Kwon Jiyong is nowhere to be found in both categories. The man doesn’t say anything about his klutzy actions, responding to them nonchalantly as if they’re _normal_ … as if they are not something needs to be overly concerned about.

And that thought eases Seungri’s mind even more as he’s drowsing, with nothing but blurry images his heavy eyes see for the last time before a warm darkness greets him.

 

*

 

Seungri sees splatters of red and white, and a man with black locks and a wide, radiant smile on his face, reaching his hand out to welcome him. Wispy, warm lights dance around the hand and Seungri’s ready to hold it with his own when suddenly, the images blur and are replaced by a pair of large, dark eyes.

“You’re awake,” the man sighs in relief.

“Of course, Jinwoo.” Another voice coos. “Seungri’s _sleeping_ , not dead.”

Seungri shields his eyes upon seeing the bright light greeting him, adjusting his retina as he slowly raises his body. “Why… why’re you here? What time is it? Am I—”

What he has intended to do is merely throwing his legs sideways and sit properly on the sofa—apparently, Seungri has spent the night there and most likely with his TV still on. However, he ends up feeling a hard bump throughout his body, followed by a muffled thud, and his face meets the soft rug laying on the floor.

“This man… why falling from the sofa should be the first thing you do? You’re never this klutzy when you bake, Seungri!” But Jinwoo helps his friend anyway, giving his hand for Seungri to hold so he can get up. “It’s still around 8:00 A.M. but you haven’t replied my message since last night, so I asked Mino to take me here. I thought you were dead or kidnapped. And no, you’re not late; your schedule’s at noon.”

“Th-thanks…” The half-sleepy Seungri coughs, realizing how raspy his voice is. “Thank you…”

Mino, sitting on an armchair across Seungri’s sofa, takes a bite off a half-eaten apple. “So Seungri’s still alive, Jinwoo. Let’s go home; I still want my breakfast in bed.”

The doe-eyed man hisses at his boyfriend. “That’s your breakfast for today, nothing more. And Seungri, I’ve brought two suits for you because you didn’t reply me. They’re in your room now. Text me when you want to return them, but I won’t be home today. Mino and I have a—”

“We’ll be going to a trip today for our first anniversary and nobody’ll be able to reach us,” Mino, wrapping his arms around Jinwoo, cuts. “ _All day_. So we’ll see you tomorrow, Seungri!” And with that, along with Jinwoo’s unclear grunts, he drags his boyfriend out from Seungri’s apartment.

“Yeah… enjoy your time, guys…” Raising his hand lazily, Seungri yawns and decides that another hour of sleeping will do no harm—the wedding hall he needs to attend at noon is only two blocks away anyway.

 

*

 

As always, Jinwoo’s design never fails to fit him and flatter his body. Today, he picks the dark blue one he pairs with white button up, cream-colored pants, and black wingtip shoes. The blazer is unbuttoned, and its front flapping as he walks hurriedly towards the waiting room.

As usual, he confirms the list of the songs to sing with the wedding planner, a young woman named Park Bom he has known for quite a while— _All of Me_ and _Thinking Out Loud_.

“You know,” Seungri sighs, “I’m getting really tired of singing _All of Me_. It’s so overused. So is _Thinking Out Loud_.”

Bom only replies with a scoff. “You surely understand the definition of ‘popular’, don’t you? Your turn’s 15 minutes to go. Better prepare yourself now.” She turns around and leaves the room while talking to someone through an earpiece, saying things Seungri doesn’t really care about but he understands her commanding tone.

Just like usual, he prepares his voice. He’s done most of the warming up before he left his apartment, so he doesn’t need to do much while waiting for his cue. All the thing he does is reviewing the lyrics once again to make sure he doesn’t forget any line—something easy since the songs he’ll be singing today are the ones he’s been doing frequently, even _too often_ to his likings.

Then he gets his cue. The singer raises his body off the chair and takes another gulp of water, then walks towards the door that connects the room with the wedding hall. He’ll be singing in front of the wedding guests, but his focus is always solely on the wedded couple.  

Just like what the place and decoration reflect, the wedding is indeed a lavish one with the traditional white decorating theme. The bride, as expected, looks flawless in her white gown with long train trailing behind—two people are specially tasked to adjust the direction of the extra length of the gown and veil whenever she moves. The groom is in his black suit, looking sleek and gorgeous— _And happy_ , Seungri adds to himself, _Both of them are surely happy_.

He smiles and introduces himself before he prompts the pianist to start playing. And there that is, the intro to _All of Me_ people can easily recognize. Still with a professional smile carved on his face, Seungri starts singing.

And suddenly, his discontentment about how _too popular_ the song disappears. There’s only music in his mind once he lets the first word come out from his mouth—Seungri loves singing as much as he loves baking, and he loves doing them more than anything else. At least, he isn’t his usual clumsy self when he sings or bakes.

Everything seems otherworldly for him as he serenades love songs to a happy couple standing in front of him and he loves seeing the now husband and wife smile while staring at each other, holding one and another’s hand. His voice brings happiness, and he knows it.

The outro is coming and the pianist seamlessly continues the part to the intro of the second song he’ll be singing: _Thinking Out Loud_. Suddenly, Seungri remembers how he loved the song immediately once the album was released, and the music video has made him enjoy it even more; it was simply cute and endearing.

The groom whispers something that brings a wide, sincere smile on the bride’s face; a sight that warms Seungri’s chest. They’re obviously in love and it somehow ignites a melancholy inside him. It always happens that way; the envy that grows slowly, painfully inside his chest creates tinges of sadness that remind him of his loneliness. As much as Seungri enjoys being a single, he cannot lie that having a lover to be next to him is something he’s been yearning. And just like every single time whenever he’s being reminded of that, Seungri keeps telling himself, “There will be the time when you finally find the man on the other end of your string of fate, Seungri. Sooner or later.”

 

> _"And I’m thinking ‘bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways,_   
>  _Maybe just a touch of a hand."_
> 
>  

That’s always his favorite part, even though he often says that he slowly grows tired of the song. _There’s indeed a mystery behind how people fall in love with each other_ , Seungri thinks to himself while continuing his singing, _as well as how two destined people meet_.

Then suddenly, a glimpse of a man who insisted on making Seungri take off his shoes and swap them with his comes across his mind; the same man who walked barefoot while carrying Seungri’s shoes with Pepper’s poo staining the soles.

Seungri always sings flawlessly and he always makes sure of that. But today, for the first time, he hitches his breath following a mere thought of Jiyong, who smiled so earnestly as he hugged and petted a golden retriever at one night, beaming brighter than the city lights.

 

*

 

The guy behind the counter beams upon seeing the person entering the cake shop. “Welcome to White Rabbit, Boss. You look awesome as always!”

“How many times should I tell you,” Seungri replies the smile and walks towards the counter, “to stop calling me ‘Boss’? Even the part-timers copy you. And has Mrs. Lee dropped by to take her order?”

“Sorry, Bos. It’s been a habit aaaand…” Kwanghee furrows his eyebrows as his eyes scan the message board attached to the back of the sliding door of cake shelf placed next to the counter, “…yes, she has. It was Junhoe who signed the receipt. And there’s another order from her for next week; a black forest, a carrot cake, and a dozen of blue velvet cupcakes. The details have been printed and brought to the kitchen.”

The business owner nods. “Where’s Chaerin? Isn’t she supposed to take extra hours today?” The water pours from the dispenser, filling up the glass Seungri holds in his hand. “And is Junhoe in the kitchen?” The latter is another baker working at White Rabbit, but Junhoe’s responsible for cakes and cupcakes sold for the shop’s daily operation.

With his chin, Kwanghee points to the wood and glass door that separates the front and the kitchen. “They’re having lunch there and Junhoe started baking right after he came. Have you had your lunch, Boss?”

“Yeah. For free; that’s even better. Today’s catering was awesome.”

“And what about the dinner? Are you going out with _him_ again?”

“ _Him_ who, Kwanghee?” Seungri chuckles as he seats himself on an empty stool next to his friend—Kwanghee’s not only an employee for him. The guy’s the one who has stayed with him since the cake shop opened three years ago and helped him with other things while Seungri mainly focuses on the products they sell. “Don’t make up stories!”

“Come on, Boss. You know who,” the thin guy wiggles his eyebrows and flashes a mischievous grin. “He’s the man who carried your shoes last night after you stepped on the dog’s poo! Aw, Boss. What he did was prince-like, wasn’t it? He let you wear his shoes and chose to walk barefoot instead! I know he doesn’t fit any description of a prince, especially on a photo Mr. Choi showed to me a few days ago. But… Wait, what’s his name again? You know what, Boss?” Kwanghee leans his face to Seungri’s ear, whispering, “I think he _likes_ you.”

Seungri snorts at Kwanghee’s remarks and pushes his face away from him. “His name’s Jiyong, Kwanghee… Remember that, okay? He’s our client! And no, we only met for business. He helps his friend to plan the wedding and I’m the one who’ll make it, as well as singing on the wedding. Got it?”

“Boss,” the other guy winks, “I only told you that I thought _Jiyong_ liked _you_. It has nothing to do if he’s our client or not, or if you’ll be singing on his friend’s wedding or not.”

The cake shop owner flicks Kwanghee’s forehead, causing the latter to squeal in surprise and pain. “I’ve told you: don’t make up stories, Hwang Kwanghee.”

“Ouch! Boss, that hurts!” Kwanghee takes out a mirror from the drawer, inspecting the spot on his forehead that turns red immediately. “But what if it’s true? What if he really, really likes you? I’m not blind, Boss. Neither was I when I saw your gesture last night when both of you entered the shop, when Jiyong helped wash your shoes, and when you said goodbye to him. I swear you looked so red and so shy as if you were about to cry but you were also so happy.”

There’s a twinge in Seungri’s chest, leaving him flustered and suddenly uneasy. “What? I… I didn’t… Kwanghee, don’t you…” But the words never add up to any complete sentence as they turn into jumbles of letters spinning in Seungri’s head. _It’s so hot here, isn’t it? Did Kwanghee turn on the heater?_ He hastily removes his dark blue blazer and opens the two top bottoms of his shirt, slowly feeling the sudden rush of uneasiness throughout his body.

But Kwanghee’s too busy pitying himself and his self-proclaimed flawless facial feature to heed Seungri, who’s still left in his own discomfort. The quietness in the cake shop is only disrupted by drips of water coming from the faucet and the soft chuckles shared between two girls who are enjoying their cakes.

Minutes have passed and Kwanghee is serving a customer, quietly complaining something that sounds like, “Why’s Chaerin so long? Is she even eating or is she going to Timbuktu to find the treasure for Scrooge McDuck?” yet the wide smile that narrows his eyes never wears off. He slides the door of the cake shelf close once the customer leaves. Without averting his gaze to Seungri, he says, “Boss, I only want to tell you one thing. If you ever decides to go out with Jiyong, don’t make out in the kitchen, okay? Do it in your own apartment.”

“WHA—” Seungri’s hand reaches out to grab Kwanghee’s back collar, but he feels nothing except for empty air.

But Kwanghee has run away with his hysterical laugh filling up the quiet cake shop, followed by Chaerin’s loud complaint once the door to the kitchen slams open. “Hwang Kwanghee, how many times should I say... Eh? Boss? Why’re you sitting on the floor?”

 

*

 

Having unread messages is one thing Seungri doesn’t really like. That’s why he always wants to make sure that he has read all messages—that’s also one way to sort the messages sent to him.

Later in the evening, once he finishes his dinner, he remembers that the messages from Jinwoo since last night are still unread. Walking towards his sofa in his shorts and old black t-shirt, Seungri taps his phone screen for several times until he opens the texts sent by his friend, whom started out as his roommate in university dorm.

 

 _For tomorrow, I have two prepared for you: dark blue and misty gray. Which one will you choose?_  
From: Jinwoo, Kim (10:03 P.M.)

 

 _BTW I have a date with Mino the whole Sunday. Are you going to come to my place early to take the suit or take it from the shop? And return it on Monday. There’ll be a client in the afternoon so I’ll be there too. Speaking of the client, he wants a pair of red suits for a wedding. Can you believe that? RED. Is it going to be the legendary Red Wedding where the couple (grooms, in this case) are stabbed and sliced to death?_  
From: Jinwoo, Kim (10:04 P.M.)

 

 _And I still have no idea which shade of red to show. I’ve prepared some fabric sample but red suits are so rare I don’t have sample for them. Mind to help me?_  
From: Jinwoo, Kim (10:06 P.M.)

 

 _Hey. Which one?_  
From: Jinwoo, Kim (10:08 P.M.)

 

 _Lee Seungri I know you’re still awake so answer me now!_  
From: Jinwoo, Kim (10:15 P.M.)

 

 _Hello? Seungri?_  
From: Jinwoo, Kim (10:20 P.M.)

 

 _Dammit. You don’t even pick up my call. I’ll go to your place tomorrow morning!_  
From: Jinwoo, Kim (11:04 P.M.)

 

 _No wonder he’s so pissed off_ , Seungri sneers, amused by the thought of Jinwoo waiting for his replies impatiently—Kim Jinwoo doesn’t like to be stood up and always wants people to respond to his text or call immediately. That’s why he always ask people who do business with him to inform him at what time they’re most likely and usually free.

With a bag of chips on his stomach, Seungri munches the snack with the messages still displayed by his phone screen. He can imagine how wide the grin on his face right now, imagining Jinwoo’s annoyance last night. But then one thing catches his attention quickly as he re-reads the texts.

 

_…he wants a pair of red suits for a wedding…_

 

_…Is it going to be the legendary Red Wedding…_

 

_…red suits…_

 

 _Don’t tell me_ … His hand reaches into the pack of chips and grabs as much as possible, stuffing them into his mouth. _Is red wedding currently trending or…?_ Seungri bites the inside of his cheeks; his thumb slowly taps the input field. _Well, Jinwoo has asked for my help... It’s the right thing for a friend to help, right?_

 

 _Hey Jinwoo! Sorry for the late reply hahaha_  
_I think I’m free tomorrow afternoon. I’ll return the suits too! See ya._  
Sent to: Jinwoo, Kim (06:51 P.M.)

 

_Yeah… right. I’m not expecting to see Jiyong tomorrow..._

 

* * *

 

 

 


	6. Be Gentle with Me

“I’m happy because I’m stupid.”  
The Boy Least Likely To, _Be Gentle with Me_

 

* * *

 

He has used up his Sunday to sleep all day, but it seems like the fever is just as stubborn as the man himself. Jiyong groans once his head throbs when he tries to get up; the dull pain takes a while to fade, yet it doesn’t completely disappear.

Once he manages to get himself sitting cross-legged on the bed, Jiyong rubs his eyes from the gunk and blinks for several times to help him get his consciousness back. And along the way, the ache all across his body feels even more real and painful instead. Tousling his black hair, Jiyong breathes in and out slowly—the air coming out from his nostrils feels warmth against his skin. A glass of water taken from the nightstand is guzzled down at once, yet the dryness inside his throat doesn’t disappear at all. _It’s positive. I have fever_.

Still sitting with sleepy, blank stare on the bed, Jiyong’s brain finally starts to function eventually. _Wait, it’s already Monday, isn’t it? I just can’t abandon things today…_ He struggles to reach for his phone—on the nightstand, where the phone perches, the table clock tells him that it’s almost 9:00 A.M.—and opens the contact list. He taps one name and calls the person, throwing himself back to the comfort of the bed once again.

Three dial tones and a man answers from the other end of the line. “Kim Jinwoo’s here.”

Jiyong opens his mouth to answer, but nothing except for empty air coming out from it. He tries once again, and his second attempt makes him realize that he probably has lost his voice. “Jinwoo,” he coughs for several times until he’s convinced that he can speak clearly enough, “It’s Jiyong… I’m sorry to call you this early.”

“Jiyong… Oh, you’re the one who came with Daesung last Friday, aren’t you? No, it’s okay. You’re not bothering me at all. And what’s wrong with your voice?”

“I…” Jiyong coughs, “I’m not feeling good right now. It… just happened while I was sleeping, maybe. So, I’m really sorry I have to cancel our appointment today. What about tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow’s good. When will you come here?” Jinwoo doesn’t hear any immediate response yet as Jiyong puts the phone away, coughing up nothing from his severely dry throat. “Jiyong? You’re good?”

“Sorry. Yes, I’m good. When will you be free tomorrow?”

“I’m free all day so don’t worry. Just take your time to rest first. You can tell me when we shall meet tomorrow later once you’re feeling better.”

“Yeah. Again, I’m really sorry, Jinwoo.”

“No problem, nobody wants to get sick at all. I’ll hear from you soon!”

“Okay. Bye…” Jinwo replies with the same ‘bye’ and Jiyong ends the call. Later, he makes a phone call to three other people—someone from the catering, someone from the decorating service, and Seunghyun. And before he drowses once again, he sends a text intended to Seunghyun, reminding him to bring food, a pack of chamomile tea, and medicine.

 

*

 

For Kwon Jiyong, sleeping is one of the best things in life. He appreciates it even more during certain circumstances, and one of them is when he’s suffering from fever. Even during normal condition, he always hates being woken up in a sudden and harshly since his mood is probably the worst once he wakes up—bless his low blood pressure. Just imagine how awful his mood is once he finds it’s Seunghyun who has been jumping on the mattress as an attempt to wake him up.

“Kwon Jiyong, wake up now” are the words the taller man screams, and each of them is uttered in every jump he makes. Little did he know that the slender man he mistakes still sleeping is actually already awake, but the dull pain throughout his body prevents Jiyong from tackling him. And each jump Seunghyun makes causes not only the mattress to bounce, but also Jiyong—and that makes the joint ache feel even _worse_.

Jiyong’s eyes are already open widely and the guy himself winces in pain each time the bed creaks. He may have a temper, but Jiyong can be _extremely_ patient too during certain times, especially when it comes to dealing with Seunghyun. So he waits and waits… his eyes don’t avert from Seunghyun’s sock-clad feet that are only a few centimeters away from him… close enough for his hand to grab.

Then the perfect timing comes and Jiyong quickly reaches out his arm to grab Seunghyun’s foot, causing a scream of surprise as the latter falls on the mattress. The next thing Jiyong sees is Seunghyun on the mattress with his head so close to his leg; Jiyong doesn’t waste the chance and aims Seunghyun’s nose with his big toe.

“What the fuck are you doing?!??!!” Seunghyun flails his hands in panic, trying to get rid of the toe thumb from his face. “You said you were sick!!!”

Chuckling, Jiyong pokes the nose for the last time using his big toe and finally releases his best friend’s face from the tease. “I am, dumbass. That’s why I’m the one who should ask: is that even a proper way to wake a sick person up?” But the his dry throat suddenly feels so itchy as if there’s something scratching it from inside, causing him to cough up the dryness once again.

Seunghyun’s long leg jerks to release Jiyong’s grab and the man sits cross-legged on the mattress. “I thought you caught love fever, not _this_ kind of fever.”

A snort escapes from Jiyong’s nostril and he slowly raises himself without releasing his cozy blue blanket from wrapping around his body. “What kind of bullshit are you talking about now? Where’s my medicine? And my food?”

“Relax, dude. You should be grateful because I drove here as fast as I could after a meeting with a client. I even could only grab burgers as lunch to eat on my way here. My presence itself is already your medicine!” Seunghyun scoffs, only to get a pillow landed on his face—apparently, Jiyong still has enough strength. “Damn, a sick person should be laying quietly on his bed, looking weak and helpless; not violent like this!”

“You and your stupid ass are the helpless ones here, fucktard. Now where’s the food? I’ve sent you text right after I called you. No pizza or such. And don’t you deny it; you bought oily foods even when Daesung was sick few months ago! Can you be more stupid that that?”

Seunghyun raises his thick eyebrows, his right hand grasping the shirt right on top of his left chest. “Your words hurt my tiny, fragile heart, Jiyong. How dare you to say that?!??” The thin lips pout, faking a sad expression that results in another pillow hitting his well-chiseled face.

“Should’ve told Daesung that he’s soon marrying a toddler,” Jiyong grunts as he lazily drags himself out of the bed without any intention to let go of his blanket.

“But I’m the dad—”

“I don’t want to hear about your sex life.” Jiyong glances over his shoulder, giving his best friend a sharp look. “Now, where’s my food?”

Seunghyun rolls out of the bed, walking casually towards the open bedroom door. “It’s in the kitchen; I’m heating the porridge in the microwave. And you don’t want to hear about my sex life because you’re _envy_ , Jiyong. You have a nonexistent sex activity anyway.” And with that, the tall man disappears from the bedroom with his deep, satisfied laughter as the only one that hints his presence.

Meanwhile, the sick man is struggling to stand up and walk as every move he does triggers ache and throbbing head. The blue blanket covers him from his head, sweeping the floor as Jiyong heads outside—to the kitchen.

His best friend is standing in the kitchen, transferring the warm porridge to a clean bowl. He rolls the sleeves of his sky blue shirt up to his elbow, revealing the skin he rarely shows to people—Seunghyun has a habit of wearing long-sleeved tops and long pants ever since Jiyong knew him back in high school, even when he’s home.

The blanket-covered man seats himself on the stool placed alongside the small kitchen island; a glass of water and a strip of tablets have been put on the black marble surface. Jiyong empties the glass, feeling relieved once the liquid refreshes his dry throat. A moment later, Seunghyun puts a bowl of hot porridge in front of him.

“Are you sure you don’t want to see a doctor?” Seunghyun takes the empty glass and refills it. “You look awful. Trust me.”

Jiyong holds the warm bowl with both of his hands, absorbing the heat before he starts feeding himself a spoonful. _Thank God I can still taste it_ , he sighs in relief. “No,” he shakes his head. “I only need to take medicine and sleep. And I’ll be fine.”

Seunghyun opens a cabinet and takes out a plastic bottle. “What did you do until you had fever anyway? You’re not pushing yourself too far, aren’t you?” The sound of water filling up the bottle follows as Jiyong doesn’t give his answer. “Hey,” Seunghyun looks at his best friend over his shoulder, “you hear my question?”

“Nah, it’s okay. Maybe… maybe because of the lack of sleep.” Jiyong murmurs and shrugs nonchalantly, but he knows the truth.

He remembers how _cold_ his feet were against the paved pedestrian path the night when he took off his sneakers and gave them to Seungri. Luckily, the place where the Pepper’s Poo incident took place wasn’t too far from White Rabbit so Jiyong didn’t have to bear the chill for too long. Once he was done washing Seungri’s shoes, he wore his sneakers back and called a taxi to go back to his apartment.

Seungri wasn’t his talkative self during their short walk to White Rabbit after the incident; Jiyong wasn’t surprised at all since he’d be embarrassed too if the same thing happened to him. But flustered Seungri was a sight too endearing to savor and Jiyong, somehow, felt grateful for Seungri’s clumsiness and Pepper’s unintentional mischief.

The unusual silence aside, the flush spreading on the glowing, milky white skin was another thing Jiyong noticed immediately as their face were so closed when Seungri held his hands tightly. The redness didn’t disappear right away when Seungri walked with his head lowered next to Jiyong, his lower lips nibbled. And how his eyes were rounded innocently, with embarrassment still beaming from the bright orbs, when Jiyong handed the shoes he had cleaned and bid his good night had managed to create a feeling of wanting to squeeze the chubby cheeks in front of him, petting the head to assure the man that it was alright.

“Well, at least there’s something I can do to help you with this kind of fever,” Seunghyun’s voice comes Jiyong’s bedroom. “It’s different if it’s—”

“Stop teasing me, you moron,” Jiyong snaps as loud as his dry voice allows. “Now where’s my tea?”

“What tea?” Seunghyun’s figure comes out from the bedroom. “And I’ve put a bottle of water in your room.”

“Tsk. Didn’t you read my text? I told you to bring food, medicine, and chamomile tea.” The slender man winces in annoyance. “Need the tea to help me unwind too.” He pops one tablet out of its package, gulping it at once as he guzzles the water down his throat.

Seunghyun takes the empty bowl from the kitchen island counter to the sink, washing it. The sound of water rushing from the faucet and against the stainless steel sink accompanies his answer. “No text from you; I swear to One-Above-All. And I think I’ve escaped from the office for too long. Need to return now or my manager will make me do shits. I have to keep him happy or he’ll ruin my wedding plan.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jiyong raises his body off the stool and drags himself back to his chamber, fixing his blanket to keep himself snugged beneath its comfort. “Please do that. Can’t afford to clean up the mess if you ever need to rearrange your wedding day. Gosh, I’ve been your wedding planner no longer than a week and it’s already exhausting me.”

“Such a _grateful_ piece of ass you are, Kwon Jiyong,” Seunghyun hisses, yet he chuckles in the end—his deep voice reverberates in amusement. “And why should it exhaust you if you can meet the _love_ of your life?”

“Fuck you, Choi Seunghyun!” Jiyong croaks with his dry, raspy voice.

The baritone laughter manages to reach Jiyong’s ears first before the bedroom door’s completely shut, along with the last remarks. “I love you too, Kwon Jiyong!”

 

*

 

Jiyong sees splatters of red and white, and a hand—his hand, apparently—reaching out towards a man standing before him. A wispy, warm light wraps around his hand, but the mysterious person shines brighter. Jiyong is blinded by such radiance, but he also strangely feels warm and comfortable. He hears the sound of bells ringing beautifully, along with the calming sound of water trickling.

But the vision slowly vanish along with the disruptive sound he hears from a distance at first; and it eventually gets loud and louder. And along with that, the bell chimes and water trickles slowly disappear and the sight of a man falters, leaving him the splash of golden orange showering the room.

_What kind of dream was that?_ He blinks, upon realizing that the golden ray showering the space is the remnants of the sunset he can see through his bedroom’s large windows. Jiyong remains unmoved even though he hears another buzz—someone has to be standing in front of his apartment, ringing the bell, and that someone isn’t Seunghyun as the man is the only person on earth who has the key to his place.

Once his consciousness claims him, Jiyong notices that the soreness has disappears almost completely; at least, he no longer cringes in pain even when he slightly moves his body, although the headache hasn’t vanished at all. However, he no longer needs his blanket to keep him feeling warm anymore.

Then there’s another buzz, and Jiyong yells his answer. “Yes, I’m alive. Wait!” And he notices that his voice is still a dry, hoarse one. “Geez…” The man grunts to himself, grabs the bottle of water sitting on the nightstand, and walks out from his chamber as quick as he can. He reaches the front door as another ring buzzes once again, opening it while drinking from the water bottle. “Okay, okay. I’m here. Who—”

An auburn-haired man stands in front of him, showing a smile once their eyes meet. “Oh. Hey. Jiyong. I’m sorry for taking so long because I didn’t check my phone until a few hours ago. Here’s,” he shows a bag in his hand, “the food, medicine, and tea you’ve asked me to bring. Do you still need them? Because… I think you look better now… I’m really, really sorry for not reading your text immediately.”

_God must really love me_ , Jiyong replies the smile, not caring if the water drips from the corner of his mouth and how terrible he looks like right now—he hasn’t showered yet and is still in his pajama he has worn since last night. “No, it’s okay. But what message did you talk about?”

“Eh?” The bright eyes blink, giving Jiyong a confused stare. “You… sent me a text this morning. A short message, telling me to bring you things…”

A sudden realization strikes at once, sending fluster throughout Jiyong’s body as he remembers what Seunghyun said about not receiving a text from him; he had to mistakenly send the text to Seungri. _But… it’s a good mistake, though…_

 

*

 

“I was so panicked when I read your text,” Seungri pushes his phone to Jiyong, who’s across him as both of them sitting around the kitchen island. “Too many typos but not that difficult to understand, though. I read it… uhh… about two hours ago? I was about to go to my friend’s place, telling him that I was on my way then I saw a new message from you.

Jiyong reads the words displayed on the screen, undecided between feeling embarrassed or grateful.

 

_ Dnot frget fooood and paracteamol. Nnd chamomile tea ok. No piza r oil food _   
From: Jiyong, Kwon (9:05 A.M.)

 

“How... how did you know my place?” The heartbeat inside Jiyong’s chest thumps faster, anticipating the answer he’ll hear sooner. “Well, it’s not like you’ve disturbed me. Don’t worry,” he continues quickly with a smile of assurance carved on his face—Seungri has been apologizing for a feeling of bothering him once he knew the text was intended for Seunghyun. “It’s just… well, I’ve never told you where I live, if I’m not mistaken.”

And there that is, the similar pleasant sight that keeps making Jiyong think catching a fever from walking barefoot in one night is a price worth to pay. Seungri lowers his head—it seems like that gesture is his habit whenever he feels flustered—but he doesn’t do it quick enough so Jiyong can still catch the splash of redness blooming on the cheeks.

“Uhh… I…” The baker shifts on the stool. “I called Mr. Choi, because I thought you were sleeping right then. And turned out I was right.” A laugh escapes from his mouth—a nervous one, if Jiyong can still trust his hearing.

Jiyong’s smile refuses to disappear upon hearing the answer, and the abundance of warmth inside starts to overwhelm him. “Yeah, right… I’ve been sleeping all day. I woke up at noon only because Seunghyun dropped by to bring me food and medicine.”

“So…” Seungri’s hazel eyes peek as the head’s still lowered, “you no longer need… these?”

“Of course I still do. Especially the tea, because Seunghyun didn’t bring one earlier. And I can still eat the food for dinner… wait, I mean _we_ can eat the food for dinner.”

Seungri gives Jiyong another confused look before he realizes what Jiyong means with his words. “Eh? No, Jiyong. You don’t have to. Enjoy the food alone, okay? I—”

“I’ve told you,” Jiyong raises from the seating, “that you’re not bothering me at all. In fact, it’s _me_ who has troubled you because you then couldn’t meet your friend.” He takes out a food container from the bag Seungri has brought and beams to see what’s inside. “Casserole! Perfect comfort food for a sick person, right?”

The other man hastily stands up and snatches the container away from Jiyong’s hold. “Well, since you’re the sick one here, let me prepare the dinner for you. You can shower now.”

“Alright, alright…” Jiyong chuckles; he really needs to clean himself to honor his guest, after all.

“And I won’t break anything!” Seungri adds hastily, furrowing his eyebrows to show his seriousness. “I promise.”

What he’s seeing is too delightful until Jiyong nearly unable resisting himself from reaching out his hand, caressing the auburn locks and chubby cheek that belong to a man standing in front of him. Realizing what he intends to do, Jiyong quickly curls his hand into a fist and gives a smile instead. “Okay. I trust you, Chef!”

Jiyong’s about to close his bedroom door when he hears a loud clang coming from the kitchen, followed by Seungri’s scream. “It’s okay, Jiyong. Don’t worry! Everything’s fine!” And Jiyong _knows_ that everything’s going to be fine, indeed.

 

*

 

_ Your best friend’s sending the most powerful medicine on earth. Enjoy! (And please, be gentle with him, okay?) x _   
From: Seunghyun, Choi (5:33 P.M.)

 

“Fuck you, Choi Seunghyun.” Jiyong sneers reading the words displayed on the screen and throws the phone to his mattress. Only in a moment later, he has stripped himself almost naked and tosses his pajamas carelessly, rushing towards the bathroom and not heeding the ache that remains since there’s an angel waiting outside.

 

*

 

People say that simple things are often the best things in life. They come unexpectedly, in a discreet manner at first, before things turn to be more and more complicated later. And once the time comes, such things suddenly appear to mean a lot and become the dear ones.

But there are some of them which can be seen to be true since the beginning. Just like the moment when Jiyong walks to the kitchen, finding the man he’s been admiring for quite a while making two cups of chamomile tea there, he knows that the second their eyes meet and the beautiful smile formed by Seungri’s cat-like mouth welcomes him is a dear moment he’ll always cherish forever. It’s especially true when the warm voice greets him with only three words.

“Dinner’s ready, Jiyong.”

_Let Seunghyun call me a fool anytime he wants_ … Jiyong can feel the warmth from his chest spreading, and he can’t help but smile back. _No, scratch that. Let the world call me a fool because that’s nothing compared to this moment_.

 

* * *

 

 


	7. Wake Me Up

“Would you make a cup of tea to open my eyes in the right way?”   
Ed Sheeran, _Wake Me Up_

 

* * *

 

 

“How’s it?”

Jiyong, with the spoon still inside his mouth, lifts his gaze. The other man sitting across him stares back at him with anticipation beamed from his eyes. “Hm?” The supposed-to-be sick man hums his response, raising his brows.

“The casserole. How does it taste?” Seungri gives him the smiling stare, stretching the corners of his cat-like mouth further towards his ears. While Jiyong showered earlier, he has transferred the casserole to two plates and insisted that Jiyong’s share had to be more than his because, “You’re the sick person here, Jiyong. You need to eat more so you can get well really soon!” The adamancy in his voice has managed to keep Jiyong’s complaint from slipping out—or maybe he’s too happy to see Seungri in his kitchen that evening until he couldn’t talk back at all.

“Oh,” Jiyong releases the spoon from his mouth, “the casserole. Well… it tastes awesome. Don’t worry.”

Seungri shifts on the stool he’s sitting on, his knees bump and brush against Jiyong’s. “Good to hear that. I bought it in a hurry so I went to the nearest restaurant I’ve never visited before…”

The slight physical touch creates a weird twist inside Jiyong, but it doesn’t feel less comfortable, though. So he does the only thing he can do anyway: keep eating. _Besides_ , Jiyong feeds himself with another spoonful, _this really tastes great. Such a waste if I don’t finish eating it and what a blessing that the fever didn’t come with dull taste buds_.

“Well, Jiyong…”

“Yes?”

“I’m a bit disappointed.”

The short remark from the auburn-haired man straightens Jiyong’s back at once, feeling startled. _What the hell did I just do? Oh my God, I only said that the food tasted good. Did he say something else I didn’t hear?_ “W-why…?”

“When you showered earl—”

Jiyong suddenly feels a lump mysteriously pops out in his esophagus as he’s swallowing his casserole, causing him to cough almost to no end—at least that’s what is most likely to happen if Seungri didn’t immediately give him a glass of water to help ease Jiyong. “I’m sorry… Please, go on.”

Seungri gives the other man a stare full of uncertainty for a brief moment, but he continues what he was going to say earlier anyway. “Well… when you showered… Jiyong, you okay?”

_Damn it, Kwon Jiyong. What are you thinking, huh?_ But he only shakes his head and takes another gulp of water before resuming his dinner.

“Earlier, I took a short tour and I’m being honest when I say that I’m still curious about what kind of books you write… So… yeah I was being like a creep as I started to look up any clue. I’m so nosey, aren’t I? But I just can’t help… well, an author always makes me curious and now that I finally know one… oh, right, I’ve told you that there are some of them who frequent my cake shop but I don’t really know them. But you’re the first one who talk with me for real…” Seungri puts his spoon down to the plate, being silent suddenly.

Jiyong glances, noticing the sudden silence at once. “Seung—”

“Oh my God. What was I blabbering about? I’m very, very sorry, Jiyong. Sorry for being too chatty and nosey and… well…” The baker-slash-singer hastily eats another spoon of casserole, lowering his head with redness creeping to his cheeks.

And nothing Jiyong can do but stuff his mouth with more casserole even though he’s currently having one not swallowed yet. _Why God? Why did you create such adorable man to walk on earth? Why did you have to let a man named Choi Seunghyun born to this world so he could send this man to me?_

The silence lingers even when they finally clean their plates, broken by the sound of the stool Seungri’s sitting on screeching as the man hastily stands. “Let me do the dishes, Jiyong.”

“But—”

“No ‘but’s. Okay?” And the man snatches the plate away from Jiyong, their fingers slightly brush against each other.

Water rushing from the faucet creates the trickling noise as it hits the stainless steel sink. Seungri rolls the sleeves up to his elbow and starts cleaning the dishes. Meanwhile, Jiyong is experiencing the same feeling he had when he stepped out from his bedroom to find his crush standing in _his_ kitchen and a realization that there are _only_ two of them in _his_ apartment that followed later.

Seungri’s figure, looking lean and fit even with a shirt and long pants wrapping around it, is only a few steps away from him. Admiring Seungri for months, the man used to be portrayed as a too unearthly figure inside Jiyong’s head. _After all, that’s what all dreamers have in their head about the one they’re infatuated with, isn’t that?_ Jiyong lets his thought wander quietly in the room. _Especially when you thought that you’d have no chance to see him again, you’d start thinking of him as an ethereal being. A flawless one._

Seeing Seungri looking this domestic is something beyond his expectation, not to mention to witness how clumsy the man is. But strangely, whatever he’s been seeing doesn’t make Seungri less admirable in his eyes. Rather, his feeling grows stronger upon realizing how _human_ Seungri actually is.

_Even the way he cannot stop talking is too endearing_ … Jiyong snickers and cannot resist himself from smiling, fluttering whenever he recalls every little thing Seungri did that has made him feel… different. _Or when he blushed, looking so flustered. Imagine how it actually feels to really caress that beautiful face with your own fingers, Jiyong. And how to look into those bright hazel orbs so closely, grazing the brows with your thumb… then forming the lips with the tip of your forefinger, before tasting it with your own…_

But imagining it will never take him anywhere. Jiyong wants more, and he _knows_ what he has to do if he ever wants to see if there’s any possibility that his feeling will turn into something more.

_And I want more. I want more so bad until it starts to hurt… here…_

“Jiyong? What happened?” A sweet voice calls and Jiyong follows it to find from where it comes from. “Anything hurts? Well, you… you clenches your chest tightly, it seems like. Should I call… I don’t know; Mr. Choi, maybe?

Jiyong’s mind still wanders, unknown by the other person who’s standing there. The black-haired guy meets a pair of bright eyes he… _How many times have I already said how I love those eyes? And the color?_ Again, he gets lost in his own thought and the sight he’s seeing. _But what about the man? Are you sure being infatuated with him is already enough?_

Jiyong, indeed, wants more.

“Seungri,” Jiyong speaks without really thinking about what may come after. _Man up, Kwon Jiyong. Ask him anyway._ He grows conscious of his own breathing, feeling his chest inflating and deflating in every breath he takes. One deep breath, and, “Are you free… sometime this week? Or next week?”

_WhatnowIreallysayitright?_ His mental consciousness squeals. And he, suddenly, feels way better, regardless of whatever the other man will be telling him… maybe later, maybe next time, since what Seungri’s doing after the question finally manages to escape from his chest is only keeping his silence, quietly paints a huge question mark read from his confused look.

The quietness still remains even after a few moments later, leaving Jiyong with a consciousness that slowly grows inside his head. He shifts rather awkwardly on his stool and raises his body off the chair, trying to casually shrug his embarrassment off. “Well, don’t mind—”

“I need to check my schedule out first. Is it okay with you? If it’s only for a dinner or lunch, chances are I’m available almost every day. Or will you need me to spare a whole day?”

And this time, Jiyong’s the one being struck dumb, gaping at Seungri whose eyes are still staring at the man. Words are spinning around inside his head, turning into jumbles of letters he doesn’t add up. All he could see and feel is a surprise overwhelming him… a _pleasant_ surprise, if he has to be honest. Astonished, Jiyong’s brain is still stuck at processing the words coming out from the other man’s mouth. _Did he say yes? I haven’t turned deaf, have I? He said yes, didn’t he?_

“Oh.” Seungri unrolls his sleeves, buttoning the cuffs one by one—his head is lowered in a certain manner Jiyong reads as a sign of fluster quickly. “I’m… sorry. Forget what I’ve said. Of course you were talking about work.” A small laughter escapes from the pair of lips Jiyong has been wanting to touch so bad, trembling with a taste of awkwardness even an oblivious person can easily recognize.

“No. No no no. Seungri, pl—”

“What did I _do_? Damn, Jiyong. I’m sorry for being a mess…” Seungri hunkers down so quickly, burying his face in his hands. The next words are muffled by the hands, yet Jiyong can manage to understand it as something that sounds like an endless train of “I’m sorry”.

Baffled by the scene that happens too quickly, Jiyong fidgets. He tightens his hand that grabs the edge of the island countertop. _Now what? Geez. Did I ask something wrong? I should’ve never asked that question. Now look what you’ve done, Kwon Jiyong!_ He gulps, trying to swallow the confusion and nervousness that appear mysteriously in his throat, as he slowly approaches the other man.

It looks as if Seungri has turned into a ball, and from what Jiyong’s seeing—well, at least according to the change of color on Seungri’s ears and neck—the man seems to turn tomato red already. And even though the confusion still lingers inside his chest, Jiyong cannot stop himself from letting out a small chuckle anyway.

Jiyong clears his throat. “Seungri…” he calls as softly as he can.

But Seungri still murmurs words Jiyong cannot manage to understand, refusing to response to the call.

“Hey, Seungri,” Jiyong bends over, touching Seungri’s shoulder gently. “Hey.”

And the called man still refuses to answer him. He even shrugs Jiyong’s gentle touch.

Jiyong sighs, even though the sight somewhat brings smile to his face. He wonders how far a man named Lee Seungri can make him do things he often find unexpected to come from a man like him, but somewhat it does _not_ sound like a bad idea at all. So the next thing he does is the one he thinks right: crouching down, he levels his stare with Seungri’s hidden face. And that way, he can hear Seungri’s mumbles clearer.

“Seungri, why should you feel sorry?” Jiyong asks quietly and decides that sitting on the floor with knees to his chest feels way more comfortable.

Still covering his face, the other man slurs so quietly against his hands. “I’m sorry for being such a mess. Besides baking and singing, I’ve never done things right. I’m careless. I’m clumsy. I should’ve known that you asked me earlier because it was about work. Why did I even mention about lunch and dinner, and asking if you wanted me to clear one day from my schedule? Why did I… Why I even… Dammit Jiyong,” he peeks from the gaps between his fingers, “I’m so embarrassed right now!”

Jiyong hugs his legs tightly while resting his chin on the knees; otherwise, he’d already reach out his hand and tousle the auburn locks lovingly. “And why should you feel embarrassed?” He whispers his question, mouthing the words so softly to help ease Seungri’s mind. The bright hazel eye peeking from Seungri’s hands glints.

“B-because… I…” Seungri pulls himself, hiding inside his own bubble once again.

Sighing, Jiyong can hear hums of unclear words from the other man. _How should I clean up this mess?_ He lets out another sigh; this one is heavier than before. _Shouldn’t have asked that question earlier. See? You’re always a fool when it comes to stuffs like… this._ “Hey,” he pats Seungri’s shoulder then slowly raises his body. “Forget what I’ve asked, okay? It’s… don’t make it your mistake. It’s mine, Seungri. It’s okay.” Jiyong rubs the shoulder for a little longer, trying to give a reassurance—luckily, Seungri doesn’t shrug it off this time. “Let’s drink the tea you’ve—”

“Ithoughtyouaskedmeout.”

Jiyong, intending to bring a cup of chamomile tea Seungri has prepared before, abruptly halts his movement. Turning around, he lowers his gaze to meet Seungri’s tomato red face, but nothing except for a brief response that manages to escape from him. “Eh?”

Seungri replies the question with puffed cheeks and hastily raises his body, causing him to lose his balance. The man squeals, his hands flailing and looking for something to hold on to, and finds another hand to grab.

That hand belongs to Jiyong, who quickly pulls Seungri towards his direction to prevent the auburn-haired man from toppling backwards. Their bodies bump against each other and another shriek escapes from Seungri’s cat-like mouth when his free hand grabs Jiyong’s shoulder.

Jiyong feels as if he is being electrified when he feels Seungri’s breath lightly brushing against his cheek. There’s a jolt inside his chest that triggers a rapid heartbeat—with Seungri’s face buried in the spot right above Jiyong’s left chest, he worries that the man will feel and hear it. He loosens his grab from Seungri’s hand, but the other one doesn’t seem to let it go any sooner—the grip on his shoulder is as firm as before as well. Feeling awkward, Jiyong uses his free hand to land a soft pat on Seungri’s elbow.

“Seungri, you’re okay?” The words are whispered against the lump of auburn locks— _He smells… good. It’s sweet but also… well, maybe it’s because he’s a baker? Wait, what am I doing? Smelling someone? Kwon Jiyong, you’re such a creep!_

Luckily, the head resting on Jiyong nods. “I thought…” Seungri pulls himself away from Jiyong, “you… were… asking me out… Jiyong,” he mutters the words as quiet as possible until they almost sound like a whisper.

Jiyong, unable to believe what he has heard, is left gaping once again. His eyes are rounding slowly, so is his mouth—forming a small ‘o’. He has no idea for how long he’s been staring at the blushing man standing in front of him, only one step away from him, since trying to understand the whole situation is suddenly too difficult for him.

“See? I’m a mess; I knew it.” Seungri manages to lift his stare, giving Jiyong another awkward laugh. “Why would I ever think that you’d do someth—”

“But I did,” Jiyong cannot stop himself from blurting out once he regains his composure. “I mean, I did ask you out. Only earlier. Well, I… well… shit. I don’t know how to say it more properly but yes, I asked you out. Seungri, is there someday within this or next week when you’ll be free? Because I kind of want to know you better and… and I also enjoy talking with you. You’re a very nice guy and happen to be a single; so do I. Even though I may not be as nice as you…” Jiyong blinks, and Seungri’s face is still the one looking back at him. “Well, is your answer still the same?”

Unlike before, it doesn’t take long for the other man to give a small nod. “Yes, of course.” Seungri bites his lower lip, averting his gaze only for a moment before he opens his mouth. “Where are y—“

“Good,” a deep voice Jiyong knows really well interrupts. A tall man suddenly appears as if he emerges from the thin air; he’s still wearing the same sky blue shirt he did when he came to Jiyong’s apartment at noon. Opening the two top buttons of his shirt, he walks casually to the fridge located right behind Seungri and takes out a boxed juice, drinking it right from the container. “I start to wonder if I should build a camp there. And,” he winks at the bewildered Jiyong and flustered Seungri, “I’ve been there since Seungri mentioned my name. I was about to surprise both of you right before Jiyong _finally_ asked you out—yes, you don’t hear me wrong. _Finally_ , indeed—so I decided to wait a little longer but hell, Jiyong really is… Wait, Jiyong, Put the bottle do—OUCH! IT HURTS! WHY DID YOU AIM FOR MY HEAD?!!??”

 

*

 

Seungri has left half an hour before, or about an hour right after Seunghyun entered the kitchen dramatically—and _painfully_ … for the said man, at least. Trust Jiyong when he said that he did _not_ expect anything to happen if Seunghyun didn’t appear, even though the intrusion itself was a blessing in disguise as it helped make things back to normal with no awkwardness lingered between Seungri and Jiyong. But, knowing the two best friends, it wasn’t surprising knowing how Jiyong quickly made a solemn vow that he would never tell Seunghyun.

“I’ll inform you later, Jiyong,” Seungri was standing right outside Jiyong’s apartment. “You know, about our…”

“Our _date_.” Jiyong rubbed his nose, grinning widely to hide his awkwardness. “Yeah.”

“Right,” the other guy replied with his ever-radiating smile. “For now, you should rest first, okay? Get well soon. Let me know if you… if you need something.” And with that, Seungri bid his farewell and Jiyong hasn’t stop smiling since then.

But now, Jiyong slowly feels the sleepiness starting to claim him once his eyes are getting heavy and heavier. He no longer suppresses his yawns and lazily makes his way back to his bedroom; the medicine must be working right now.

“So… when will I be sleeping tonight?”

_Damn_ , Jiyong furrows, _I forget that this noisy pest is still here_. “You’re heading home. Go away.” He casually flails his hand, shooing his best friend who lounges too comfortably on the living room sofa.

Seunghyun, already in his own pajama, pouts. “But we’ll be having a pajama party, staying all night, and talking about…” the pair of thick eyebrows nesting above his deep-colored eyes wiggle, “… _boys_. Aww, this will be fun!” The groom-to-be squeals, a sight that results in a foot landing on his stomach.

“Who gave you permission to stay overnight _here_?”

“Nobody. But you know I’m a person with the kindest heart so I’ll make sure you have enough sleep by staying overnight. I actually wanted to cook you dinner but apparently you’re already full from love. The most powerful medicine I sent to you earlier really works, eh?”

Jiyong presses his foot harder on Seunghyun’s stomach, causing the latter to scream. “Enough with your blabbers, piggy. Look, your stomach’s so flabby now. When was the last time you worked out?”

“Well,” Seunghyun squirms under Jiyong’s foot, “at least I still burn some calories on bed ev—KWON JIYONG, FOR FUCK’S SAKE, LET GO OF YOUR FOOT FROM ME!!!”

The called man winces upon feeling a sudden twinge in his head once his best friend screams. “Geez. Stop screaming, dickbag. My head pains me even more.” Jiyong massages his temple and lets Seunghyun free. “Just… just sleep wherever you want, Hyun. I don’t care as long as you keep yourself quiet.”

“Then I—”

“And of course sleeping in my bed is an exception,” Jiyong cuts immediately.

“But…” Seunghyun pouts his lower lip, giving Jiyong a puppy stare. “But it’s so cowld here aloneeeeeeee! I want chu cuddle with my best fwiend!”

Jiyong flicks Seunghyun’s forehead, leaving a red spot there. “Stop acting like a spoiled little jerk, Uncle. And you even cannot shut your mouth when sleeping. Listening to your sleep talking is the last thing I want.”

The other man only chuckles while rubbing the red spot on his forehead. “Ji, you don’t stop complaining like an old lady. Are you really that happy to finally ask Seungri out?”

Just a glance is enough for Jiyong to catch a sight of Seunghyun smirking at him. “Shut. Up.”

“Aaaaaww someone’s going to get laid this week!”

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” Jiyong hisses quietly and turns around, walking to his chamber. “Keep quiet and let me sleep peacefully. Remember I have to deal with the shits related to your wedding tomorrow!”

But Jiyong’s scolding merely goes in one ear and out the other as Seunghyun keeps his sing-song, “Jiyong will get laid this week. Jiyong will get laid this week.” And before the bedroom door closes, Jiyong can hear Seunghyun greeting someone else—the man’s most likely calling Daesung and his cheap mouth absolutely will spill out even the least relevant things.

 

*

 

Living alone for years, Jiyong has been getting used to wake up with quietness greeting him—except for the days when he wakes up to the sound of his phone ringing or his alarm blaring, of course. But during the normal days, there’s nothing.

He rarely sees something but his own bed and his own room—apparently, the last time he was in a relationship has been three years ago. That’s why he suddenly feels alert when he sees something _unusual_ perching on his nightstand right after he opens his eyes.

Usually, there are only his alarm clock, a glass of water, and his phone sitting there. But this morning, he sees something different with what he’s seeing. The suspicion gets only even stronger as he senses another unusual thing greeting his olfactory system: a scent that somewhat feels familiar to him, but his half-asleep brain still cannot process it yet.

Jiyong turns his body sideways, laying on his back and staring at the white ceiling for a moment. He then slowly gets up; a sigh of relief escapes from his lips once he slowly notices that the pain has completely gone and there’s no even a slightest ache in his head. Rubbing his eyes, he tries to get rid of the sleepiness away. Once he has regain most of his consciousness, Jiyong returns his stare at the nightstand.

That _unusual_ thing turns out is simply a white porcelain cup put on a matching saucer and the scent comes along with the steam produced from the brownish liquid filling up inside: his chamomile tea. Two papers are slipped in the tight space between the base of the saucer and the nightstand top. Jiyong reaches out his hand, carefully taking the notes with his one hand and the cup with another.

 

> _ Yo. _   
>  _ Off to work around 8 when you were still sleeping like a log. _   
>  _ And no. THIS is NOT from me. Tee-hee. _
> 
> _ x _
> 
> _ —CSH _
> 
> _ P.S.: He’s a fucking keeper. The breakfast was awesome. You’re such a lucky bastard. _

 

Jiyong sips the hot tea and returns the cup to the nightstand. _He who? Breakfast what?_ But he knows better not to bother and question himself because Seunghyun sometimes can talk about weird things he never manage to understand, no matter how long they’ve become friends.

He reads the other paper; another one with different handwriting.

 

> _ Hey, Jiyong. _
> 
> _ I wonder if I should return this morning then I really did. Hahaha. _
> 
> _ Didn’t want to disturb you so I only left this tea and breakfast (it’s on the kitchen). And this note (because I thought it would be rude of me if I came and left without saying anything). _
> 
> _ Are you feeling better now? I wish you are :) _
> 
> _ —Seungri _

 

* * *

 

 


	8. Luna

“Down where the walls start shaking, I’m ready for you to find out.”  
Bombay Bicycle Club, _Luna_

* * *

 

_ Thank you for the tea and breakfast. The food tasted awesome! _   
_ And BTW I’m much better now. I’ll see you soon? _   
Sent to: Seungri, Lee (9:11 A.M.)

 

_ Yo shithead. Why’s your underwear on my showerhead? _   
Sent to: Seunghyun, Choi (9:12 A.M.)

 

_ That’s a good luck charm if you ever make out with Seungri in the shower. x _   
From: Seunghyun, Choi (9:13 A.M.)

 

_ I wore that when I first did it with Daesung. x _   
From: Seunghyun, Choi (9:13 A.M.)

 

_ Please kill yourself first before you marry poor Daesung. _   
Sent to: Seunghyun, Choi (9:45 A.M.)

 

_ Get laid first if you want to preach, yo. x _   
From: Seunghyun, Choi (10:09 A.M.)

 

_ Jiyong, sorry for the late reply. _   
_ You’re welcome. Yay, glad to know you’re okay now! _   
_ And yes, real soon :) _   
From: Seungri, Lee (10:57 A.M.)

 

*

 

Jiyong, guzzling down the remaining iced green tea latte inside his cup, walks hurriedly amidst the crowds. Lunch time may be over already, but it doesn’t mean the downtown will be less busy. Upon noticing his destination within his sight, he dumps the empty plastic cup to the nearest trash bin. Checking his reflection on a mirror, the man fixes his black plaid blazer and makes sure his hair still slick back, away from his face, before returning to the crowds once again—earlier, he had a lunch with his editor, discussing the possibilities of turning his latest book into a series following the popularity it gains.

“Black Cat” is the words written on the name sign hanging in front of a minimalist yet chic boutique with display of suits behind its glass façade. _White Rabbit, then Black Cat_ , the man snickers once he notices the name of the place as he didn’t notice when he first met Jinwoo. _What’s next? Blue Dolphin? White Horse?_

He pushes the black-painted door open, feeling the chilly air welcoming him at once. The place is still as quiet as it was when he first visited the boutique with Daesung before. A young guy welcomes him with a professional smile carved on his face. Jiyong tells him that he already has an appointment with Jinwoo, and the guy tells him to head to the fitting area.

Following the direction pointed by the shop assistant, Jiyong approaches the fitting zone and slowly hears noises. The closer he is, the clearer the sound is—there are at least _two_ people talking, and Jiyong’s completely sure one of them is Jinwoo.

The other voice sounds familiar, though.

The fitting area has no door and the single path ends to a room, large enough for a long, upholstered bench perched right in the middle and three fitting rooms inside. Jinwoo’s sitting on the bench with his back facing Jiyong, talking to an invisible man who has to be inside one of the fitting rooms.

“How come it doesn’t fit? How much bigger has your ass been growing, huh?” The man, whose skin—per Jiyong’s brief observation—seems to always glow like porcelain, chides. “You know I always tailor every piece I make to fit your size. You’re my walking mannequin, remember?”

Jiyong clears his throat, hoping that he’ll catch Jinwoo’s attention, but the other man doesn’t seem to notice him at all. “Jin—”

“But the others always fit, unlike this one,” another voice echoes throughout the room; the moment Jiyong hears it, he swears his heart just skipped a beat. “Maybe you used the wrong measurement, Jinwoo.” The owner of the voice pushes the door of the fitting stall he’s in open, cladded in burgundy suit with white shirt and black tie.

It takes no more than a split-second for Jiyong to recognize the man. “Seungri?”

The called man raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Jiyong?”

“Hm? You know each other?” Jinwoo stares at them, his doe eyes are rounded. But none of Jiyong and Seungri don’t respond him at all, so he remains quiet, studying the expressions plastered on both men. “Ah, I see…” He nods.

“What?” Seungri breaks the stare and furrows at the designer, his bright eyes express a glint of annoyance.  Jiyong, unsure of what he should do, decides to look at Jinwoo too.

There’s a small smirk formed by the full lips, along with a huff escaping from Jinwoo’s mouth. He runs his finger through his blonde hair, pinning his stare at Seungri. “Now I get it, Seungri,” he winks. “But first, let me introduce myself to you, Jiyong,” says the man, approaching Jiyong with a hand reached out for a handshake.

Confused, Jiyong decided to follow whatever game the blonde is playing, thinking that it will not do harm anyway—it’s not like they haven’t introduced themselves to each other when they met before. He welcomes the hand in a solid grip, to which Jinwoo grabs and captures with his left hand.

“I’m Kim Jinwoo, Lee Seungri’s best friend since we were in university. The man standing there,” the blonde gestured with his chin, “used to be a student majoring in business before he decided that his hobbies were more important. And as you may have known, I already have a boyfriend so you don’t need to worry at all.”

“J-Jinwoo! Stop talking nonsense!” Seungri throws black pants that land perfectly at Jinwoo’s head, who throws it back at him a second later.

The designer makes a face that brings the pants back to him once again. “What nonsense, Seungri? I’m only introducing myself!”

Meanwhile, Jiyong shifts the center of his body uncomfortably from one foot to another, having no idea how to join in the seemingly-friendly conversation shared between the other two men in the room. “Uhh… Jinwoo? I came for—”

Jinwoo cuts him with a single wave of his hand. “Yep, right. Of course you came for Mr. Choi and Mr. Kang’s suits. Not for _this_ man,” he chuckles. “Well, as you may have noticed, _Seungri_ here is currently wearing one of the samples I’d like to show you. Burgundy, because it has the elegant feel and not as bold as typical red. Oh, and please,” Jinwoo tilts his head, leaning it closer to Jiyong, “ignore the thing about Seungri’s ass you may have heard earlier.”

The teasing remark gets Seungri snapping at the blonde while slamming the door of the fitting closed. “Jinwoo, I swear to God, you should stop talking balderdash!”

A huff of air escapes from Jiyong’s nose; he can’t help but snort upon hearing the last word coming from the closed fitting room. _Balderdash? When was the last time I heard this word being used?_

“He’s really interesting, isn’t he?”

“Eh?” Startled, Jiyong turns his head and finds Jinwoo’s smiling at him—the blonde no longer shows any sign of mischief on his expression and his tone is somewhat lower. “Wh-what…?”

The designer sits on the bench, patting the empty spot next to his—gesturing Jiyong to sit next to him. Crossing his legs, he continues, “Yesterday he texted me, asking if my _client_ has arrived or not and telling me to call him immediately if my _client_ has come. I often ask for his help but he was never that eager until yesterday. Now I know why.”

Jiyong shifts awkwardly on the bench, not knowing what to say to respond to Jinwoo’s words. _Hmm? But should he have no idea at all if I was Jinwoo’s clien?. Today’s my first time seeing him here…_ But of course nothing can give him the answer as he quietly wonders inside his head.

“And I’m sure you already know about Seungri’s… uhh… wait, what word should I—ah, right. That’s one. Well, you… already know about his… gifts?”

“Uhh…” Jiyong fidgets, “you mean… his voice? And his baking skill?” He shrugs, glancing at the other guy whose eyes are rounded as if he’s in disbelief. “Jinwoo? You… okay?”

For a moment later, Jinwoo still has his eyes pinned at the black-haired man. His full lips are slightly parted for a moment, until he wet them with his tongue before his mouth forming a bright smile. “Yeah… right, Jiyong. Seungri’s gifts. His voice and his baking skill. Of course.” A small laugh comes out from his mouth as the blonde mutters, “Right. Yes, right…”

Jiyong blinks. Confusion fills up his head upon hearing what the blonde just said—the guy seems to talk to his own self rather than to _him_. “Well…” he returns his gaze at the closed door that keeps Seungri out from his sight, “You asked about his gifts… his talents, so… Singing, baking, those are the only ones I can mention. I don’t know him well to find out the rests…” _…yet_ , Jiyong adds to himself. _Hopefully. And why should it bother Jinwoo anyway?_

“Hey, Jinwoo! Is it done?” Seungri’s voice breaks the momentary silence in the room.

“Of course not! Why should I prepare four different shades of red if I’ll only show Jiyong one of them?”

“Geez… what’s next?”

“Pick anything from the bags inside and demonstrate each to us. Come on, you’re my personal model!”

Seungri doesn’t say any word, but Jiyong can hear sounds from inside the fitting room, followed by a loud thud and a scream. “OUCH!”

Upon hearing the sounds, Jiyong abruptly stands and walks towards the closed door. “Seungri?” He leans his ear closer to the white painted panel. “What happened? You okay there?”

“Yes… it’s okay. I’m… fine. I only… shit, Jinwoo. You should expand the fitting rooms. I really mean it.” A click later, Seungri’s face appears as the door ajar and the eyes meet Jiyong at once. “Oh, hey. Jiyong, don’t worry. I only tripped myself and my back bumped against the panel.” The man flashes a toothy smile that quickly disappears as he closes the door a moment later.

Turning his head around, Jiyong meets Jinwoo’s stare and smile directed at him—the kind of smile that has an impression as if the blonde is having something already on the tip of his tongue, but he decides not to let it slip out. Jiyong wonders what that is, but he decides to shrug it off instead.

 

*

 

Jiyong’s phone memory was probably going to burst if he listened to Jinwo, who didn’t stop telling him to take more photos for each red suit he has prepared for Seunghyun and Daesung’s wedding. _There are only four different shades of red but why should I take, like, dozens of photos for each?_ He wondered to himself.

Seungri’s changing his clothes for the last time and Jinwoo’s away, returning the suits to his office—at least that’s what the blonde has said to him. Jiyong slides his thumb on his phone screen, choosing what photos he can send to Seunghyun and Daesung. But then he freezes his thumb as he sees one particular photo that suddenly makes him notice something.

_God… I have Seungri’s photos in my phone!_ He squeals mentally, resisting an urge to drop his jaw. _Why don’t I realize it much earlier?_

Displayed on his phone screen is a picture of Seungri slightly lowering his head, his right hand fixing the position of the left cuff of—as per Jinwoo’s word when Seungri complained that the shade looked similar with the one he wore previously—the wine red suit. The auburn-haired guy beamed, though Jiyong didn’t remember what took place when he took the photo. Against the rich wooden tone dominating the fitting zone, Seungri’s pale skin glowed as if the light illuminating the space came from him.

Jiyong cannot resist himself from smiling once he feels the warmth sparking in his chest. One thought suddenly pops inside his head, telling him not to let Seunghyun or Daesung see this one picture, telling him that such view should be kept for Jiyong and him only.

“Oh, where’s Jinwoo?”

“Ah… Uhhh…” Startled by Seungri’s sudden appearance, Jiyong quickly turns his phone screen off. “He… he said he went to his office to store the red suits… told us to wait for him here.”

“Okay,” Seungri answers softly and throws himself on the empty spot next to Jiyong.

A silence follows while Jiyong’s trying to figure out what he should do when Seungri’s sitting _too_ close next to him. He feels his body tensed upon noticing how Seungri’s arm slightly brushes against his when the man sat down and how their thighs are glued. The consciousness grows along with the rapid heartbeat when he glimpses the man next to him is leaning his back backward with his arms providing a support to his body, causing their shoulders to meet. Carefully, Jiyong peeks from the perimeter of his sight... _Is he tilting his head towards my shoulder?_

Jiyong feels the heat coming from Seungri on the spots where their bodies meet.

“Hey, Jiyong…”

The called man slowly turns his head sideways, trying to gain his composure and wishing that he doesn’t look so flustered. But what he sees is Seungri’s radiant face and rounded eyes with pure innocence beaming from his stare. Seungri blinks and Jiyong sees the lid moves as if everything is in slow motion—he swears he can count the hair forming the lashes if he leans his head closer. _And please, don’t tell me about the lips_ , Jiyong gulps, averting his stare to the pair of soft-looking pinkish lips, and slowly lowers his gaze until it reaches the spot where Seungri’s neck meets the collarbones, peeking as the top button of the white shirt he’s wearing undone.

_Beautiful_ , he almost gasps. _Why are you so beautiful?_

Jiyong really wants to say that one simple word as it has been hanging on the tip of his tongue since the very first time he saw Seungri months ago. Rather, he squirms and answers with a stuttered “Y-yes?”

“Is Friday okay with you?” Seungri forms a tiny smile with his lips without breaking the stare. “There are cakes I have to finish on Thursday evening and I’ve cleared out my Friday from… stuffs, so I’ll be free all day.”

Nodding his answer, Jiyong hopes his face doesn’t look red upon feeling the heat spreading on his cheeks. “Yes,” Jiyong clears his throat. “Yes. Friday is… good. I’ll fetch you at… 11:00?”

“Great. You can pick me up at my place.”

“What about your shop? Well, I don’t want to bother you, but… I’ll need to bring something for the owner of the place we’ll be visiting.”

“Hmm? What will you need, Jiyong?”

_Again. Duh._ Jiyong silently wonders how long he’ll need until he finally gets used to hear his name coming from Seungri’s mouth. “Just… a few snacks. Maybe tiramisu or black forest will do; the man isn’t really into sweets either.”

“It’s okay, I’ll get them ready for you so you don’t have to go to the shop first.” Seungri lowers his head, his fingers are playing with the hem of his white shirt. Clearing his throat, he continues almost like a hush, “And… I was about to ask you last night but… Mr. Choi, he… he suddenly appeared. Well… where are you going to take… me?”

If it’s not because of the quietness of the room, Jiyong’s convinced that he may not hear Seungri’s words clearly as the baker-slash-singer mouths each word really, really quiet. “Ah, I’m not sure if you’re going to like it, but… but the place, for me, is similar to your cake shop. It’s really quiet there and… well, you have to see it yourself to understand what I think about the place,” Jiyong answers, also in almost whispering voice.

“Any clue? Just… just one will do.”

Jiyong doesn’t answer right away. Rather, his mind is busy trying to find the perfect thing he hopes will make Seungri as excited as he is about their date. “Hmmm… I’m not sure if this will do but… but this place… it’s related to the books I’ve written.”

And nothing… nothing but relief and more adoration Jiyong feels when Seungri’s eyes immediately find him, beaming sparkles that sincerely express his excitement in a truly endearing way—the same one that always makes Jiyong unable to resist the urge to reach out his hands, cupping the face to caress the blushing cheeks, and taking Seungri’s face closer to him so he can taste the sweetness on the lips, waiting to be discovered by Jiyong’s tongue. “That’s the best thing I hear today!” Seungri beams.

_How long can I resist this?_ Jiyong asks himself as he returns the warmth Seungri exudes. “And your place…”

“Ah, right!” The singer straightens his back at once, fishing his phone out from the pocket of the jeans he’s wearing. “Here, I’ll send you the address.”

“Or you can ask me,” Jinwoo cuts while pulling Seungri’s ears, causing his victim to shriek in surprise. “I also happen to have the key to his—OUCH! SEUNGRI!”

“How many times should I tell you to stop talking nonsense?” The auburn-haired man scowls as he pinches his best friend’s hand, leaving an obvious red mark.

The blonde frowns in pain, rubbing the red spot on his right hand. “Why’re you so violent? I was only helping Jiyong!” To Jiyong, he says, “I bet you’ve never had any idea that this man can be acting like this, right?”

The black-haired man only snickers as he raises his body off the leather upholstered bench. “I’ve never expected anything, although I don’t mind seeing Seungri teasing his friend. So fun to watch. It’s cute, I think.” he continues while heading to the only way in and out from the fitting area.

And Jiyong notices that neither Jinwoo nor Seungri has said anything to respond to his answer, so he glances over his shoulder only to find Jinwoo grinning widely at Seungri. The latter, however, is beet red while trying to avoid the blonde’s finger that always moves faster to assault his chubby cheek.

_Cute, indeed_ , Jiyong nods at the sight, _but why should he look so flushed anyway?_

“Stop,” Seungri finally manages to catch Jinwoo’s hand, “teasing me, Jinwoo! Remember you’re having your client here!”

Laughter still comes from grinning Jinwoo as the blonde ends his attempt to pester Seungri, walking towards Jiyong’s direction. “Ah, right… I’m sorry, Jiyong. I’m so happy today because finally I can tease this guy. It’s a rare opportunity, you know? And because I’m having a good mood today, I’ll agree with the price Mr. Kang proposed before. It’s only a few dollars less than the figures I’ve asked anyway. All you need now’s only deciding which shade of red and which suit design to choose. And I don’t mind if the wedding planner wants to take my model too.”

“Jinwoo!” Seungri dashes towards the blonde, his arms are reaching out as if the man is ready to choke his friend. Turns out he probably rans too fast—at least that’s what Jiyong thinks—and his hands are grabbing the back of Jinwoo’s shirt, pulling the blonde towards himself and both of them end up falling backwards.

 

*

 

It’s already past dinner time when Jiyong can finally return to his apartment and then finds Daesung already sitting on his sofa. The copper-haired man welcomes him with a wide smile and a warm greeting upon knowing that the apartment owner notices his presence.

“Where’s Seunghyun?”

Daesung raises his body and walks to the adjoined kitchen. “Overtime. Another meeting with a client tomorrow and he lost the file for presentation tomorrow. His boss was extremely mad at him for slacking off, so I took your apartment key from him. How are you feeling today? Have you had dinner?”

Jiyong follows the muscular man, taking his blazer off and carelessly throwing it at the sofa—he misses, but he doesn’t care. “Much better. Thank God. And yes, I have, though I won’t mind extra.”

“Seungri really is the most powerful medicine, isn’t he?” Daesung sends him a look over his muscular upper arm as the man opens an upper cabinet to take a few ingredients out.

Rolling his eyes, Jiyong snorts. “Come on. What kind of shits Seunghyun has been feeding you with?” He grabs a glass and fills it up with water from the dispenser.

“None at all, but he did tell me that someone finally had the guts to ask his crush out last night. And what about fried egg and some salad for dinner?”

“I won’t refuse whatever you’ll be making since I’m starving right now. And… yes. I… I did,” Jiyong shrugs.

Daesung’s small eyes turn smaller as the smile on his face gets wider. “Great! I’m happy to hear that. Really.” He pours cooking oil into the small frying pan and turns the stove on. “Where will you be taking him to?”

“To Taehyun’s place. Last Saturday, I’ve asked him if I could take someone to his place someday.”

“Oh? Before cake testing?” Daesung asks in surprise. “Geez, Jiyong. It’s already _Tuesday_. What took you so long to ask? And to Taehyun’s place already?”

The slender man shrugs nonchalantly. “Well, I don’t want to dilly-dally. It may be only one week since I re-encountered Seungri and finally talked with him, but I’ve seen so much of him. I only think that… that showing him what my world look like is fair enough.”

“Oh… wow…” Daesung shakes his head while breaking the egg shell, letting its content flowing inside the frying pan. “You may never notice this, Jiyong, but I think you’re kind of… romantic?”

Jiyong is so getting used to be described in many words: rude, violent, snobbish, stubborn, fool… Jiyong can make an unending list. But the man is truly surprised to hear what Daesung just said because he never assumes ‘romantic’ as a word befits to describe himself, neither has he ever heard someone describing him as one—ask his exes and they are most likely to agree with said man himself.

“I’ll shower first,” Jiyong murmurs while dragging himself to his bedroom. Upon entering the chamber, he notices that the large windows are uncovered by curtains to reveal the view seen from 12th floor—the floor where his apartment’s nestled at. Unbuttoning his shirt, Jiyong walks closer towards the window to enjoy the sparkling stars outside, natural and artificial alike. But his focus is somewhat distracted by the crescent moon adorning the night’s sky.

The shape of the moon reminds him of Cheshire Cat’s signature smile; it’s full of mystery but also beautiful in its own way. And he wonders if whatever feeling he’s having recently will end up as something so beautiful just like a man named Seungri is.

 

* * *

 

 


	9. Vanilla Twilight

“Because the spaces between my fingers are right where yours fit perfectly.”  
Owl City, _Vanilla Twilight_

 

* * *

 

It’s Thursday night and Seungri’s feeling relieved for finally finishing his work on time. He’s inside the kitchen past the operating hours, with only Junhoe to accompany him after taking overtime to help.

The younger’s wiping the counter with paper towel for the last time after cleaning it. “Boss, are you not going to come to the shop tomorrow? Observing your working speed… it looks like you’ve been trying to finish one week order only in a few days.”

“Yeah. I’ll be taking a day off tomorrow.”

“Singing?”

“Yeah…” Seungri cannot resist himself from smiling. “Kind of…”

“Oh, who’s getting married on Friday? I thought your singing job would be during weekend only, Boss.”

“ _Someone_ is, Junhoe.” Seungri pulls the kitchen door open, narrowing his gaze at his employee. “And when are you going to finish cleaning out the counter? It’s already past 10:00 P.M. and even Kwanghee’s already home 30 minutes ago.”

Junhoe flashes a wide grin on his face, quickly throwing the used paper towel into the bin near the sink, and hurriedly walks to the door. “Tsk. Mission’s failed. Kwanghee will be very disappointed in me tomorrow.”

“What did you mean?” Seungri closes the wooden door and locks it. “And how does it have anything to do with Kwanghee anyway?”

But Junhoe doesn't give him an immediate answer as the younger keeps grinning. Not a long time later, both of them are standing outside White Rabbit, which lights inside are already out. Junhoe’s apartment is only one block away so he will walk, while Seungri’s taxi is already waiting for him. “There’s something hot we’re currently discussing, Boss. Gossip or not, we’ll find out sooner or later. Meanwhile, good luck for tomorrow… for your singing job, of course!” The younger gives his boss a playful wink with the wide grin still carved on his face.

“You—” The other guy grits his teeth, but Junhoe has waved his hand for a goodbye. Seeing Junhoe’s figure shrinking, Seungri cannot help but shake his head. And he’s no longer surprised when Kwanghee’s name was spilled out, since the guy’s most likely having a private satellite to record everyone’s data, including Seungri’s, for his gossip material and blackmail purpose.

A moment later, Seungri’s already on the passenger seat inside the taxi that takes him back home. Unlocking his phone, he types in a message. After hitting the “Send” icon displayed on his phone screen, he closes his eyes, eagerly yet secretly wishing that the time would pass oh so quickly.

Because one night away is too long for him to finally meet the man who has been occupying his mind lately.

 

_I’m going home now. You?_  
_Good night & see you tomorrow! _  
Sent to: Jiyong, Kwon (10:27 P.M.)

 

_Heading to bed now. Sleep well, okay?_  
From: Jiyong, Kwon (10:30 P.M.)

 

*

 

Waking up around 8:00 A.M. is always Seungri’s habit, no matter how late he falls asleep the night before. This morning, though, he has no idea what time it was when he finally could fall asleep. The man was so excited all night as if he was being an elementary student who couldn’t wait for the morning to go for a trip with his friends and teachers, making it harder for him to sleep at his usual bedtime even though he already covered himself with his comfortable blanket.

All Seungri can feel right now is how sleepy he’s still, but he knows better that staying on bed will be the very last thing he wants to do. After all, it’s _Friday_ and he has freed the day from any schedule.

Living alone since he attended university and being single for quite a while, Seungri’s so getting used to see nothing and nobody in his bedroom so he quickly notices something _unusual_ perching on the corner of his bedroom, near the covered glass window where his reading chair’s at. Sleepily tousling his auburn-colored bedhead, he walks towards the corner to pull the maroon red curtain away.

Sitting on his black upholstered chair is a black and white checkered blazer, along with a sheet of paper clipped to the wooden hanger.

 

 

> _Perhaps you’ll see another face when you wake up? :P_  
>  _Good luck!_  
>  _—Jinwoo (and Mino!)_

 

Jiyong arrives at 3 to 11 o’clock along with a brief phone call, telling him that he’s waiting outside with a taxi. Seungri himself has been waiting for Jiyong without stopping himself to look at the clock for too many times even though the TV’s on for the last 30 minutes.

Seungri will be lying if he says he doesn’t look forward to finally have the man to fetch him, so he doesn’t hurry—messing things up because of his clumsiness will be the last thing he expects to happen. He does everything slowly, starting from the moment when he raises his body off the sofa, fixes the blazer he’s wearing, checks if his wallet’s already inside his pocket along with his phone, and walks towards the door, before heading to the lift that takes him downward to the ground floor, the lobby, and outdoors… finally.

_It’s not like it’s your first time seeing someone, Seungri_ , the man mentally reminds himself. _Jiyong can be different, but he’s not the first man who has asked you out_. He takes a deep breath, trying to maintain his composure. _But… right. Jiyong’s so different… and that matters…_ He tries to smile as he walks towards a man standing alone, whose back is everything Seungri can see from where he’s heading from.

He feels something clenching his inside, gripping it tighter as his every step brings him closer to his date. Seungri clears his throat and calls, “Jiyong.”

And there that is: the face that refuses to leave him alone even though he’s by himself finally meets him as Jiyong turns his head quickly. It’ll be an understatement to say Jiyong’s smiling once he sees Seungri; the black-haired guy is beaming. A curve, which corners lift upwards, is formed on the face, making the man looks even more radiant… at least in Seungri’s eyes. Both of his hands are hidden on his back, and it’s not difficult for Seungri to notices that the author also feels, at least, as nervous as he does. Other than that, he looks okay— _No. Not ‘okay’, Seungri. Jiyong looks gorgeous_ , Seungri mentally chides himself.

Jiyong's black locks are pulled away from his face, looking quite sleek but not too much to maintain his casual look. A plain white T-shirt covers his body, along with a denim bomber jacket Jiyong leaves unbuttoned. Just like Seungri, he’s wearing jeans, while the feet are clad in olive green sneakers.

“Hey,” he replies only in one simple word. Just one word, but it stubbornly lingers for _too_ long inside Seungri’s head. But Jiyong’s smile stays on his face, and Seungri cannot help but widens his.

“The cake’s here,” Seungri shows a white bag he’s carrying. “Is tiramisu okay?”

And another small gesture that makes Seungri nearly drop his guard: Jiyong tucks his black hair to the back of his ear. “No problem; it’s good. So… let’s go?”

_God, for the first time in forever, please don’t let me do anything silly, okay? Please, please, please… I’ll trade one single day without creating a mess with everything You’ll ask for me!_ Seungri nods and follows Jiyong entering the taxi.

 

*

 

It takes almost 30 minutes to reach their destination. Meanwhile, they spent most of the times inside the taxi in silence, each of them enjoyed the outdoor view seen through the window. _Or pretending to enjoy_ , Seungri sighs once he’s outside the car. _At least for me…_

Standing in front of him is a white house in an English cottage style with a garden adorned by colorful blooming flowers—spring is coming, after all. The weathered painted picket fence also forms the façade, blending seamlessly with the blooming bushes. They’re near the outskirt of the city, where tall buildings are only a view seen from a distance, with a quiet neighborhood around them—Seungri only sees a cute Rottweiler puppy trotting on the other side of the empty street and a silhouette of an old woman in a distance.

“Seungri,” Jiyong calls quietly. With his head, he hints Seungri to follow, “Come.” But he doesn’t walk ahead; a glint by the stare of his dark chocolatey eyes waits for Seungri to answer him.

Seungri arches his mouth upwards, trying to ease himself and the man standing next to him. “So…” he takes one step forward, to which Jiyong follows right away. “So, what’s this? A beautiful house with a beautiful flower garden in a quiet neighborhood. Don’t tell me that you’re going to… to rob this place.” _Yeah. To rob this place. Such a witty fellow you are, Lee Seungri!_

A soft chuckle rings, coming from the man walking next to him, and that embarrasses Seungri even more. They’re heading to the front porch, walking across the small front garden adorned by colorful blooming shrubs lining the edges of the stone pathway. “Of course no… this place is my friend’s. He’s been helping me a lot with my work.”

“Right! Your work! You can bet that I can finally fall asleep in peace tonight once you finally tell me!”

Both of them already stand in front of the mint green-painted front door, looking as bright as the blooming flowers on the small front yard. Jiyong knocks three times, and it doesn’t take long for the door to open, revealing a slender man with a pair of small eyes and slanted eyebrows. His bright blonde locks are parted in the middle and the guy wears a loose gray T-shirt and skinny dark jeans. Just a brief greeting—“Oh. You,” he grunts—and the door opens wider once Jiyong hands the bag with tiramisu in it, to which the blonde answers only with a quiet rumble of, “Thanks.”

Seungri glances at Jiyong, waiting for any signal to introduce him to the man, or to enter the house… and he doesn’t need to wait for too long, since a soft pull from a hand wrapping around his wrist quietly does, surprising him. But Seungri follows, letting the other man guides him entering the small white house.

_Besides_ , he feels the corners of his mouth stretch, even though only slightly, _his touch feels… good._

“Ah… s-sorry…” Noticing what he’s doing, Jiyong’s face immediately turns red as the man awkwardly releases the gentle grip around Seungri’s wrist. Both of them still follow the blonde, who hasn’t muttered any single word after simple words he said to welcome them. He leads them, passing the airy and bright living room and dining room with kitchen adjoined, heading to someplace only him, Jiyong, and God knew.

Seungri is indeed startled by what Jiyong just did, but not in a bad way. His heartbeat is still racing even after the taste of the touch disappears, and when he sways his hand—the one Jiyong held earlier—he feels a weird emptiness. _Right. The touch, it felt… good_ … he sighs, feeling the heat still spreading on the spot where their skins met earlier. With the corner of his eyes, he glances at the hand dangling on Jiyong’s left side.

The urge to fill in the empty gaps between Jiyong’s fingers is too much for Seungri to handle. _I’ve become a single for too long, apparently_ , he sneers mentally at his own thought.

“We’re here,” the same grunt calls, snapping Seungri back to reality.

A moment later, Seungri finds himself awed by whatever he’s seeing. He’s in another bright room where broken white paint color dominates the surface, but he sees colors—more and more greet his vision the longer he stares at the splashes of colors inside the room. The room itself isn’t a large one, with an open shelf perched right at the center, and seems to be a gallery where paintings are displayed.

He cannot contain whatever warm feeling he has inside his chest once he pays more attention to the details displayed on each sheet of paper framed and hung on the walls, leaving almost no empty white space visible. Seungri starts from the wall on his left side, observing every colorful drawings and paintings displayed there—of humans and animals alike, of anthropomorphic creatures or not.

It feels like Seungri’s being transported to his old times when he could dream freely… when his imaginations ran free. The days when he built sand castles in an imaginary kingdom, pretending to be the king and preventing his cousins from attacking his land. The days when he could be everything he wanted to—a knight, a bard, a wizard, or even a vegetable (with a pure joy overflowing inside him, he suddenly recalls the moment when he and his little sister pretended to be potatoes and did nothing but roll on the floor).

The details are truly impressive and endearing, and the man can feel how each of them was created carefully and sincerely. _Oh, is this watercolor?_ He admires the colors and how different techniques have resulted in different effects… _And look at this beautiful Carrot Princess and gorgeous Cabbage Prince! Oh oh oh, and there are illustrations for Alice in Wonderland! And see that adorable purple dragon that breathes flower!_

“Seungri,” a voice calls him softly.

The singer turns his head and meets Jiyong’s eyes, nearly forgetting that he isn’t alone. Looking around, he notices that the blonde guy has disappeared. Seungri tries to express his excitement through his smile and soft laugh, hoping that it can help ease the other guy from the nervousness that’s clearly painted on his face ever since they met in front of Seungri's apartment.

“Jiyong, this room… these paintings…” a sigh escapes as he tries to find the perfect word, “They’re so amazing. Really. They’re so _beautiful_. Did you… did you do these?”

There’s a small hope inside Seungri’s chest; a hope to see a nod of Jiyong’s head. But it doesn’t happen once the man lightly shakes his head. However, what comes from the lips excites him even more.

“No. They’re Taehyun’s works… I mean, the blonde guy who owns this place.” Jiyong averts his gaze, his eyes look as if they’re staring at something even though Seungri can notice how they waver in a mix of emotions. “Those paintings… they’re illustrations… for my books.” As the man lowers his head, his eyes are peeking from the perimeter of his sight. “I write children’s books, Seungri.”

Right at this moment, the blushing Jiyong is a sight Seungri wants to remember forever.

“But… don’t worry,” the author shrugs. “I’ve so gotten used to receive various reactions from people who hear it from me. I understand if you don’t believe me, because I may not look like those typical children’s book authors, so…”

“That’s… that’s wonderful! Amazing. Really, Jiyong. Trust me.” Seungri grins, waiting for a response from the black-haired man standing next to him, even though he still gets nothing but a doubtful look. “Well, which illustrations are used in your books? There are… there are so many here.”

Jiyong lowers his head again, his right foot makes a quiet sound as it’s tapping the floor. “Almost… almost all of them are for my books…”

“Oh, wow…” Seungri points at the painting of a little boy who’s playing with a kitten hung right at his eye level, “So, this one; is it for your book too? And this one with cute panda and dragon? And that one too, where an adorable dinosaur bathes in a lake? And that one? That one too? This one?” Randomly pointing at any direction, Seungri glances at Jiyong, who’s still looking flustered. “Jiyong!”

“Uhh?” The abrupt call, thankfully, manages to raise Jiyong’s head. “Yes?” His eyes blink in confusion, and Seungri can see the remaining of rosy red on the cheeks.

_Ugh, why didn’t I notice how cute he is way earlier?_ Seungri clenches his fists, trying to resisting the temptation of squeezing Jiyong’s glowing cheeks in his hands. “Tell me everything about your books. Just… just tell me. Everything. Please?”

Still, Seungri gets nothing but another doubtful look beaming from Jiyong’s eyes. The man opens his mouth, looking like he’s ready to say something, only to stop midway; the reluctance is too obvious to see.

But whatever other people have been telling to Jiyong doesn’t matter for Seungri. He _likes_ Jiyong and the way the man reacts to whatever he’s been doing whenever they meet and spend some times together, including how casual Jiyong has always been whenever his clumsiness attacks. _Jiyong is different_ , Seungri keeps telling himself. _And that’s a good thing_.

If he has to admit to Jiyong, he wants to tell the man that he listened to everything the guy and Jinwoo were talking about a few days earlier when three of them met in Jinwoo’s boutique. And yes, whatever he heard from that not-so-quiet conversation has given him another reason why the date today is even more important.

Seungri wants to know Jiyong better, getting to see the world a man named Kwon Jiyong has been living in up close. And to finally achieve that, he doesn’t need Jiyong to doubt him, thinking that Seungri is just like other people.

Jiyong has been the one who doesn’t stop listening to him when Seungri cannot stop talking. And now, it’s Seungri’s turn to _listen_.

So that’s why his hand decides to grab Jiyong’s hand, pulling him to another corner of the room. “This, Jiyong,” Still holding hands, he lifts his free hand to touch a framed picture, “tell me about this, okay? And then this one,” he moves his hand to another painting, “and the rests of the illustrations in this room. I’ll listen to you. I’ll listen to _everything_ you’re going to tell me, so you better start now.”

“Are you…” Jiyong clears his throat. “Are you sure? Everything?”

“Right. Everything.” He fills up the gaps between Jiyong’s fingers, intertwining them with his own, and gives a reassuring grasp. “You told me you wanted to know me better, but it’s not fair if you’re the only one who do. Everything about you… I want to know it too. Besides, I have all day… no. Scratch that: _we have all day_. Okay?”

Much to Seungri’s relief, the owner of the hand in his hold doesn’t budge. Rather, he also tightens his hold around Seungri’s hand, slowly beaming radiantly. And with a small smile formed by his lips, Jiyong clears his throat and starts. “So, this illustration’s for one of my first books about a bear…”

The words coming out from Jiyong’s mouth pass Seungri’s ears and the voice stays inside his head, ringing like bell chimes and trickling water of a water fountain he recalls from his childhood time. He observes the sight of sparkles gleaming inside Jiyong’s orbs, lovely smile carved on the face, creases formed on the corner of Jiyong’s eyes as the man smiles oh so happily... he tries to capture everything with his eyes, telling himself not to forget such beauty when a man named Kwon Jiyong opens up to him.

Besides, turns out the gaps between Jiyong’s fingers can fit his perfectly.

 

* * *

 

 


	10. I Would Do Anything for You

“Ooh la love.”  
Foster the People, _I Would Do Anything for You_

 

* * *

 

 

Being a singer, even though not a professional one, allows Seungri to get used to hear and listen to music every day. And the one he does doesn’t only come from the musical instruments playing on the background as he sings; the sound of trickling water during a chilly rainy day, the quiet whistle he hears when he boils water in the kitchen, the sound of footsteps muffled in the corridor when he walks out from his apartment… everything is a music to his ears.

That also includes the moment when he listens to people talking to him. And today, while he’s being all ears to Jiyong, his eyes are not the only one spoiled by such endearing sight when the black-haired man tells him so many things about a slice of his life. He also finds it fascinating to listen to Jiyong’s voice, how the sound coming from the pair of lips changes its tone during certain times, from exclamation to whisper, from snort to giggle.

If Seungri’s an artist, he would have painted the colors of Jiyong’s voice (—and suddenly he feels so envious of the thin blonde).

“We once argued about—”

“Jiyong,” a grunt cuts, diverting Seungri’s attention from Jiyong to the blonde who’s standing on the doorway. “And…?”

“Seungri,” the auburn-haired man smiles. “I’m Lee Seungri. We… we haven’t been introduced.”

“Nah. It’s okay, Seungri. I’m Taehyun. Nam Taehyun.” The blonde waves his hand nonchalantly. “I’m not good with people, especially _new_ people so knowing your name’s already enough for me. Well, aren’t you hungry? You’ve been here for hours and it’s almost 4:00 P.M. Come to the kitchen. I’ve prepared foods for you.” Each word is pronounced seemingly expressionlessly, and once he’s done, Taehyun quickly disappears, leaving no sign as if the man has never been there anyway.

Following Jiyong, Seungri’s heading out from the small gallery room towards the kitchen. Perching on the kitchen island table are plates full of sandwiches, along with two blue porcelain cups and a pitcher—filled up with tea, according to the smell.  

“I’m sorry for not introducing you to Taehyun earlier,” Jiyong murmurs as he seats himself next to Seungri. “He’s not good with people. Even he still acts like that towards me, whom he has known for years.”

A small shake of his head and Seungri takes one sandwich. “It’s okay. Besides, he’s been so nice already for letting you take me here and cooking us lunch.” One bite of the food, and he’s awed by the taste.

Jiyong chuckles quietly. “Yeah, he’s often misunderstood, which somewhat reminds me of myself.”

“So… I guess nice people are often the misunderstood ones?” Seungri raises his eyebrows, giving the other guy a playful look. “Come on, I meant it. You’re really, really nice. And that’s good, you know? Forget about those who say ‘nice guys finish last’, because I don’t really think that’s true.” _And you never say anything about me being a klutz; that’s the nicest part of you and you should know that, Jiyong._

“Uhh… yeah. Thank you…” Jiyong scratches the side of his neck, leaving reddish spot that somewhat makes Seungri suddenly feel blushing.

But his stare refuses to move on from Jiyong’s neck, how the collarbones peek shyly, and the way he already imagines the body hidden behind the single layer of white T-shirt the man is wearing. _What are you having in your mind, Lee Seungri?_ He clears his throat in hope to ease himself from sudden embarrassment creeping into himself… in hope that his fluster may not look so obvious to the man sitting next to him, he eats his lunch quickly and silently.

The silence lingers while they’re finishing their late lunch, but Seungri’s fully aware of the heat radiated by the other body that sits so close next to him that suddenly makes him slightly flustered. He didn’t feel this disturbed at all when he held Jiyong’s hand earlier in the small gallery. And yes, he is not oblivious by the fact that Jiyong is interested in him—after all, what’s the purpose of asking him out if Jiyong had no feeling towards him?

“Let me do the dishes, Seungri,” Jiyong’s voice sounds almost like a whisper when he leans his body a little closer towards Seungri to collect the empty plates.

Seungri only murmurs his ‘yes’ while sipping the tea, holding the cup in his hands and nodding slightly. _You should’ve let your fringes grow longer, Seungri. Perhaps they can cover part of your eyes,_ the little voice in his mind reminds him.

His gaze doesn’t fail to follow Jiyong’s movement as the man walks towards the sink to clean the plates, though. He observes the other man’s slender figure that looks flawless even though it’s seen from one side and Seungri can notice how lean Jiyong’s body is although it is covered by a white t-shirt—Jiyong has abandoned his denim bomber when they started their lunch.

_And see how he looks so beautiful even with only a small smile formed by his lips…_ Seungri rests the cup on the table and puts his chin in his hand, remembering how bright the author was when he spilled many things about his work to Seungri. _No wonder some say that people look really attractive when they’re talking about things they’re passionate about_. He can feel the same small smile is slowly forming on his own face as his eyes savor the sight of Jiyong looking so domestic in someone’s kitchen.

“Seungri…”

The called man blinks, and the next thing he sees is Jiyong’s dark chocolatey eyes staring at him, sparkling mysteriously yet charmingly. He can sense the warmth beaming from the orbs, just like what he always catches whenever he looks at the man. _Does he always look at me that way?_

He will be a big liar if he says he isn’t happy about that.

“It’s beautiful outside. Mind to go to the backyard? It’s… it’s kind of my favorite place to think… to find new ideas for my work…” He shrugs, drying his hands with paper towel.

And it doesn’t take long for Seungri to nod with a wide grin plastered on his face.

The backyard is accessible from the kitchen, leading to a small open space that looks even more colorful than the front garden. Weathered-looking picket fences are still visible, so are the blooming plants and bushes alike. Seungri cannot name all of them—he’s not really into gardening because his apartment has too little space for such privilege—but he really admires the combination of greens and colors through varied heights and textures.

A small patio is right outside the kitchen and shaded by white-painted wooden pergola. A swing bench with backrest is perched there, spacious enough for two people sitting side by side and adorned by small pillows.

“A swing!” Seungri squeals, feeling elated. He quickly pulls Jiyong’s hand, taking the man with him to sit there with their side bodies glued to each other. “So,” he leans his back comfortably, turning his head sideways to meet Jiyong’s beautiful face, “you were going to tell me something about one painting that made you and Taehyun argue. How could that happen?”

“Ah, that one…” A huff of air escapes from Jiyong’s nostril as the man snickers; his hand runs through his black locks, pulling some free strands away from his face. “It was quite funny, for me. I don’t know about you, but—”

Seungri elbows the guy sitting next to him. “Jiyong!” He pouts playfully, expressing his disagreement. “Everything; remember? And… uhh… can you please rock the swing?” Seungri presses his feet against the concrete ground, putting all his might to move the swing bench only to no avail.

“That’s not how you do it, Seungri…” Another soft laugh comes from Jiyong’s lips, leaving Seungri with embarrassment. “I’ll swing it for you; this is how you should do it.”

And once again, the magic works, of how time goes so fast the moment Jiyong shares everything to him. It seems like Seungri’s looking at Jiyong at one moment when the swing bench starts moving, and the next time he blinks, it’s already getting dark outside with golden lights shower the space as the sun sets.

Seungri admires how the golden beams illuminate Jiyong’s face when they look at each other, revealing sparkles of passion and admiration hidden inside the pair of eyes he’s staring at. _And right… He’s always looking at me that way. Why didn’t I notice it earlier?_ He lifts his hand, intending to tuck free black strands to the back of Jiyong’s ear, only to abrupt halfway when his fingers are only a few millimeters away from the face.

He feels as if he’s being sucked into the gleaming eyes, leaning his face closer because Jiyong’s small smile suddenly becomes the center of his gravity. And only Seungri and God know how difficult it is for him not to land his lips on the corner of Jiyong’s mouth… or maybe to claim the pair of lips wholly only for himself.

Rather, his lips stop somewhere along the jawline. “Thank you, Jiyong,” he breathes against Jiyong’s cheek. “Thank you for today. Thank you for telling me about you. Thank you.” And then he wraps his hand in Jiyong’s hold while slowly, reluctantly pulling himself away from a man he knows will fill up his vision even though he’s closing his eyes, whose smile will always follow him even when he’s alone.

As the fingers find their way to interlock, none of them says any single word.

 

*

 

Both Seungri and Jiyong left Taehyun’s small house after spending their dinner time—this time, Taehyun joined them. Seungri tried to converse with the blonde only to find his efforts fruitless, but he sees a glimpse of Jiyong in the thin guy: they may not seem so, but they actually listen. The only difference is how minimum responses Taehyung gave him.

The ride inside the taxi that brought them back to the city was quiet since Seungri spent most of the time to fall asleep—the only thing he can remember when he wakes up is how he didn’t stop yawning when they were waiting for the taxi to arrive and Jiyong insisted on telling him to sleep.

Maybe it was because of the peaceful silence inside the taxi—the driver didn’t try to talk with them, nor did he play loud music—or how the heat spreading from Jiyong’s body felt so comfortable against him, the next thing he knows is now he’s already awake, even though sleepiness is still hanging on the corner of his eyes.

“Where are we?” Seungri murmurs, covering his open mouth as he lets out a big yawn escape.

“We’re near… two blocks to go, I think…”

“I really have been sleeping nearly all the way home, haven’t I?” Stretching his arms, Seungri yawns and straightens his back. Upon hearing nothing but a soft giggle coming from the other guy, he elbows him playfully. “Speak. Did I drool?”

“No, no. You didn’t. Don’t worry, but…” Another huff comes from his nostrils as Jiyong’s mouth forms a small smirk. “You slept so… soundly. That’s all. Your head fell back and you looked like you were dead. When the taxi hit a bump even though we haven’t been far from Taehyun’s place, you didn’t wake up at all. Did you sleep last night?”

“OH! Look! That’s my apartment!” Seungri abruptly straightens his hand frontwards, pointing at the apartment building where he stays.

Much to Seungri’s relief, Jiyong doesn’t seem to notice how uneasy he becomes. _Why should I let him know that I almost couldn’t sleep last night?_ He rubs his eyes again once he’s out of the taxi, stretching his body. _I’ll sleep early tonight… I think_. He lifts his head, staring at the dark night’s sky. Squinting his eyes, Seungri tries to find the stars on the sky and gives up since the artificial lights beaming from the street lamps, stores, cars, buses, and such surrounding him are too bright.

Fishing his phone out from his pocket, Seungri glances at the digital clock that reads 8:24 P.M. The notification bar displays some messages, mostly from his employees: Kwanghee, Junhoe, Chaerin, and even the Kims, Jiwon and Hanbin. Jinwoo also texts him, but Seungri doesn’t mind if his best friend will scold him tomorrow for not replying his messages immediately. He clears the message notification, reminding himself that he’ll read those unread messages later before going to bed.

Seungri whirls around, intending to bid Jiyong a goodbye, but the man’s standing there alone and the taxi has left. “Eh?” Seungri blinks in confusion. “The taxi doesn’t wait for you?”

“No need to,” Jiyong shrugs casually, gesturing Seungri to lead him. “I can call another one or take the bus to go home. Now, let me walk you to your apartment. You told me you had a singing job tomorrow, right? Shouldn’t let you trip yourself or bump your head on the door.”

“Yeah… yeah, right.” Seungri snickers and notices that Jiyong’s hiding his hands inside the front pockets of his jeans. The wind blowing right before they enter the lobby feels a bit chilly, and he remembers how warm Jiyong’s skin is.

It doesn’t take long for them to wait for the elevator. Both Jiyong and Seungri enter the compartment along with other two people, feeling an awkward silence shared among them. The singer is standing on the corner right, while Jiyong is on the opposite. Crossing his arms across his chest, Seungri lowers his head as his right foot taps the elevator floor, creating a sound that beats in a random pace.

One ‘ding!’ later, they finally arrive at the 8th floor—Seungri’s floor. Quiet murmurs of, “Excuse me,” later, both of them are soon out from the elevator. “This way,” with his head, Seungri hints Jiyong to follow him to the corridor on their left.

The space is quiet with nobody in sight. Jiyong still has his hands inside his pockets, walking so close next to Seungri. The floor is covered by dark red carpet, muffling their footsteps that maintains the silence. Even so, there’s a noise inside Seungri’s head and the man suddenly notices that it is the sound of his heart is beating rapidly.

Jiyong’s elbow slightly brushes against his upper arm, and Seungri is resisting the strange yet strong urge to grab the hand of the man walking next to him out from the pocket, feeling their fingers knitted again. _Unfortunately_ , Seungri sighs quietly, feeling a disappointment pinching his chest once he sees his apartment is only a few steps away, _time runs so fast when I’m with Jiyong_.

Seungri makes two leaps, turning around to face his date. “So… here we are.” He wants to sound so excited, but the way his voice rings inside his head tells differently.

“Ah…” The black-haired man lowers his head. With white walls and ceiling, and bright fluorescent lamps illuminating the corridor, it’s not difficult for Seungri to notice the change of look formed on Jiyong’s face. “Well, I guess… good night?” The gleaming eyes are peeking shyly.

_Ah, Jiyong… why should it be night already? Why can’t the day be longer than night?_ But all Seungri can do is only forcing himself to smile, replying quietly, “Yes, right… Good night.” His eyes are staring back into Jiyong’s orbs, and once again, he finds himself lost in a wonder formed as a human being standing in front of him.

Whatever magic that comes along with the presence of Jiyong whenever they’re around each other works mysteriously once again. The eyes draw Seungri closer, and when he nearly loses his balance, a hand anchor him, preventing him from falling through a safe squeeze around his body.

The touch feels soothing, and it’s like Seungri can always rely on it forever whenever he needs to find his _home_ —a place where his heart is at… and hopefully where he’ll be spending the rest of his life with. His hands find their way to lay comfortable on the chest, clad by white T-shirt, and Jiyong’s eyes are now the size of the moon.

For a moment, Seungri feels really, really shy, and the urge to avert his gaze away from Jiyong’s beautiful eyes suddenly emerges, but the pair of chocolatey orbs staring straight into his soul are too forceful to ignore. He cannot stop himself from savoring them, as well as the lips that never fail to form a smile whenever Seungri looks at the man.

Those lips are now parted slightly, and Seungri wonders how they will taste…

…and then there’s a vibration coming from Jiyong’s thigh, followed by a loud, blaring sound Seungri immediately recognizes as a standard ringtone in every phone. Blush quickly finds its way to spread on Jiyong’s cheeks as he frantically takes his phone out from his pocket. “I-I’m sorry.”

Seungri stands awkwardly, suddenly feeling lost as Jiyong’s arm is no longer binding him. He steals a look and Jiyong’s back is all he can see as the man’s answering the phone.

He clenches his chest, tightly. _Don’t. Don’t explode. Please._

“It was… Taehyun. He only wanted to say thank you… for the cake. He… he likes it,” Jiyong mutters once the call ends and he’s turning his body to face Seungri once again. Even so, there’s a gap between them right now, filled with an avalanche of awkwardness.

“Uh… tell him I thank him too for his time… and his foods… for everything.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah…”

Oh how Seungri wishes the phone call has never happened so he might be already drowning in Jiyong’s embrace and tasting the lips of the man. But all he can do right now is only keeping his silence uneasily, not knowing what he should be doing.

The guy standing in front of him clears his throat. “I’ll go home now, Seungri…”

And suddenly Seungri realizes that the warmth is not only in Jiyong’s eyes whenever the man is staring at him; it’s also in his voice when he calls his name. He feels his legs weakened, as if he’s slowly turning into a puddle of goo, and nodding his answer is everything he can do properly.

“So… Good night? And I’ll call you once I’m home?”

“Yes…” Seungri clears his throat. “Yes. Please. Call… me.” He raises his head and finds the same stare beaming from Jiyong’s eyes greets him. _That look… only for me…_

“It’s been a great day for me. I’m sorry I didn’t take you to someplace else… somewhere more—”

“No!” As he blurts his disagreement, Seungri shakes his head abruptly. “No! Really! Today’s a great one for me too, Jiyong. When I thanked you earlier, I really meant it. So… thank you. Thank you for everything you’ve showed me… you’ve told me. Those mean a lot to me. Trust me.”

“Good to know that.” A hand reaches out, landing a gentle caress on Seungri’s auburn locks, and Jiyong’s smile widens. “Rest well, okay?”

Seungri nods, replying the smile and feeling the comfortable feeling spreading throughout his body. “Say that later. Call me first, Jiyong.”

The hand finds its way to Seungri’s cheek as Jiyong playfully pinch it with his fingers. “Right.” Wrinkles are forming on the corner of narrowed eyes as Jiyong beams. “See you, Seungri.”

Jiyong’s figure is shrinking when the man walks away and Seungri doesn’t fail to keep his eyes on him. Right before he completely disappears behind the elevator door, Jiyong waves for the last time.

A sigh escapes from Seungri’s mouth while he’s opening his apartment door, full of feelings and emotions. He recalls the date that ended only recently, his excitement when he finally found out that Jiyong was an author of children’s books— _Go to the bookstore after working tomorrow, Seungri_ , he reminds himself, _And buy Jiyong’s books. All his books!_ —and finally, when they were only one thumb away from kissing. He sighs once again, and pushes his apartment door open.

“Seungri!”

The called man turns around quickly, immediately recognizing the voice that calls him. _It can’t be…_

But his eyes don’t lie; a pair of arms wrap around him—one hand finds its place to lay on the small of Seungri’s back while the other rest on the nape of his neck. A pair of lips claim him oh so quickly, not giving Seungri any chance to take a breath first, and the eyes he really admire lately are the last thing he sees when he gives up, letting go of all his strength.

He’s so getting used to taste sweetness on his tongue from all the pastries he has baked, but this very one melting in his tongue is so different and nothing can ever compare.

His beating chest tells him that he’s still alive once a distance grows between the connected lips. Seungri sees a hesitation inside Jiyong’s wavering eyes, but he can also watch how the man _wants_ him, and he wants Seungri so bad. Panting, Seungri caresses Jiyong’s cheek gently.

The hesitation also grows inside him. _Should I?_ He tries to think, but his brain refuses to work. _Kwon Jiyong. Jiyong. Jiyong. Jiyong...._ The name keeps ringing inside his head, giving his mind no opportunity to function normally. _This man, Kwon Jiyong… Yes, I want him. But… should I?_

But then whatever that makes him sway is immediately cleared out from Seungri’s head when his hands decide to pull Jiyong’s plain white T-shirt, leading the man entering his apartment. He can hear his apartment door quietly slams closed—his hand quickly turns Jiyong’s attention back at him, not wanting the man’s focus to be distracted by the sound of closed door.

And once their lips crash once again, their chests are against each other, he can feel the taste of sweetness he knows he’ll never get tired of. The kiss has turned to be something far cry from innocent once their tongues meeting, twirling one and another, and Seungri’s mind is clouded by his desire to feel Jiyong as a whole.

He wants Jiyong so bad until it feels hurt in his chest.

For a moment, Seungri thinks he’s falling in love.

 

* * *

 

 


	11. Religion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rated M. Also, from chapter 11 onward, each will be copied and pasted straight from the original document (which means the more unforgiving amount of typos and mistakes).

 

“When I’m down on my knees, you’re how I pray.”  
Lana Del Rey, _Religion_

 

* * *

 

Whatever reasons that drove him out from the elevator and brought him back to Seungri’s apartment are no longer relevant once Jiyong can finally savor how Seungri tastes on his tongue. His hands are holding the man with all his might, not intending to let go of him, as the other one tangles his hands around Jiyong’s neck.

Their chests are pressing hard against each other, and Seungri… Seungri tastes too sweet and Jiyong doesn’t care if he’s being mindless, reciting only one name inside his head; the only thing that matters to him right here, right now.

_Seungri. Seungri. Seungri._

The name is like a mantra that unleashes everything he’s been keeping for months: his longing, his adoration, his infatuation…

Then it seems like he’s turning into fire, or perhaps it is Seungri’s flame that feels so hot on his body. He only does what his instinct tells him as Jiyong pushes the other body to the wall, taking his denim jacket off. He wants to strip himself from the T-shirt too, but another pair of hands are already there to help him. During one split second as their kiss breaks, he meets Seungri’s half-opened eyes that beam burning desire.

“I want you,” he whispers, leaning his lips closer to said man’s earlobe. “Seungri, I w—”

The other pair of lips quickly capture his, full of lust, and a nibble on Jiyong’s lower lip opens the mouth instantly. The tongues meet again, as Jiyong hastily helps release Seungri from blazer and button up the man’s wearing. His breath feels heavy. His inside is burning in pleasure. While his mind chants Seungri’s name as if it is a prayer, nothing but muffled moan escapes from his mouth, still connected to the other one. His tongue is exploring the inside of Seungri’s wet, warm cavern, again and again, touching every spot with passion.

“Shit,” Jiyong hisses, gasping for air. But the distance doesn’t remain for too long as Jiyong’s lips find their way to land on the bare neck, nibbling and sucking, creating red marks all along the line towards the collarbone. “Fuck, Seungri. I want you.” He buries his face in the soft shoulder, marking the milky white skin with his specks. “I want you,” he murmurs and sucks harder following the tightened wrap around his neck, breathing in the sweet, sweet scent of sex pheromone Seungri’s body exudes.

The body pinned between him and the wall squirms and Seungri’s moans are more and more audible with every kiss Jiyong lands on the bare, trembling Seungri. Putting all his might, Jiyong lifts the body and soon feels the legs wrapping around him, as the hands enclosing him push his head even closer against Seungri’s heated chest.

 _Sofa or bed?_ He tries to think, but the scent he breathes in and out is too distracting, clouding his sanity. All he wants to do right now is to claim the man he’s been infatuated with right away, and the firm chest and the hardened buds he’s assaulting with his tongue are things that seem to be more logical for him. _Fuck it. Sofa, it is_.

But a soft tug on his hair pulls his head away from the heated chest he’s been marking—reds are everywhere, and they’ll turn blue and purple once the sun rises. Seungri’s breath fans his face, so heavy yet so warm, and his eyes are just as hungry as the rest of his body. The lips, parted and looking too seductive, softly tremble. Jiyong slightly tips his head, trying to capture them, but the word comes out first.

“Bed, Jiyong… Bed…” Seungri purrs, still tugging Jiyong’s hair. “The other side… of the room… Quick. Ple—ah!” The body slightly jerks when the moan escapes as the tip of Jiyong’s tongue scuffs the nipple.

Fingers are buried deeper in the skin of Jiyong’s back as he carries Seungri, who never stops moaning his name, heading to the chamber, nipping at the bare soft skin. The deep and deeper Seungri’s fingers buried, Jiyong knows he’s not the only one who’s leaving the mark.

 

*

 

Seungri feels his soft bed against his back, but now that he finally feels the heat radiated by Jiyong’s body on his skin, he knows even the most lavish velvet will never be as comforting as the man is. He has found out how good Jiyong’s touch on him is, but to feel the man’s body against his… oh how Seungri does not mind if his brain stops functioning right away as long as the quiver of passion he experiences from such physical contact is the one he will know and feel forever.

He feels hot. _Too_ hot. And even though the weight of Jiyong’s body is no longer on top of him, the heat still remains. He opens his eyes, upon feeling the loss from not having the man to hold him, and sighs, “Jiyong…” Raising his body, he glances at the man standing in front of him.

His room is still dark, but the half-opened window allows the light of the street lamps and stars to enter the space. The beam showers the body of a man… and Jiyong is there, standing alongside the edge of his bed, giving him the same loving look yet the dark eyes also gleam in desire. The man, as half-naked as Seungri is, stands still, yet his stare doesn’t; it preys on Seungri in a way as though the man is worshipping him, making Seungri think if himself is something precious… something sacred.

“Seungri… is it okay?” The mouth speaks, but the eyes do not stop from ravishing him—the thought arouses Seungri even more as the tightness around his groin starts to feel even more unbearable.

Seungri nods hastily, overwhelmed by the feeling of wanting Jiyong inside him, body and soul, as they unite. “Yesss…” He throws away his embarrassment, not caring if he may sound like a slut now—a _demanding_ slut, because he yearns to have the man standing there to come to him straight away. “Yes, Jiyong. Fuck me. Now. Please… Use me. Do me—”

The plea ends as Seungri, again and again, has no opportunity to take a breath when other lips find his, sucking his sanity away and filling up his head with one name he recites like a hymn.

_Jiyong. Jiyong. Jiyong._

He keeps repeating it, knowing for the very first time that just one name can turn into a music in his head.

A nip at his lower lip, and Seungri feels oxygen filling up his lungs once again as Jiyong releases him slowly. “No, Seungri,” Jiyong’s breath feels hot against his face, fanning him. “No. I won’t fuck you.” And when Seungri almost voices his complaint, he continues while tracing his jawline from his chin upwards with the tip of his nose, “But I will make love to you. Is that okay?”

One touch on his earlobe, and Seungri feels the shiver down his spine. “Turn on the lamp, Jiyong. It’s… near the door.” He cups the face, bringing the beautiful dark eyes to level his stare. “Let me see you clearly.” _And let me know you… let me feel you… love you…_

Just one moment later, everything in the room is visible and Seungri’s gaze never fails to follow Jiyong’s movement as the man approaches the bed. He sees the tattoos adorning the bright, soft-looking skin, and how the muscle forms the lean body before him.

Seungri moves closer to the edge of the bed, sitting on his knees, and levels him at Jiyong’s height. He lands his hands on Jiyong’s hips, feeling the heat the body releases seeping into his veins. Raising his head, he finds Jiyong’s eyes pinned on him, unwavering, and the man’s hands are resting around his nape. Seungri smiles, and then he starts kissing every inch of the skin as his hands work to unbuckle the belt, slowly releasing Jiyong from his jeans.

“You’re beautiful, Jiyong… Very, very beautiful. Inside and out…”

He starts kissing from the chest, including a slight touch on both nipples that makes Jiyong’s body tensed. Once the belt unbuckled and the jeans unzipped, Seungri pulls the pants down while feeling the crevices of Jiyong’s abs against his lips. He teases by leaving some marks as he nips and sucks at several spots around the hips and waists… making sure the tattoos will not be the only thing Jiyong will see on his body the next morning.

Each time Seungri kisses, Jiyong groans. And every time Seungri sucks, Jiyong groans louder and pulls Seungri’s hair harder.

The boxer briefs are the last thing left on Jiyong’s body, and the manhood trapped inside appears as if it wants to be released right away. Seungri slides the dark gray fabric between his teeth, pulling it down as he bites it, while his eyes return the gaze Jiyong gives him.

 

*

 

“Hmmhhhh…” Jiyong grunts his moan through pursed lips, fully aware that his shaft is getting harder eventually with every kiss Seungri lands on his skin. He only has Seungri’s hair and shoulder to hold on to, and that’s what he’s doing: tugging the strands and burying his nails in the shoulder when he feels the pleasant spasms throughout his body once Seungri’s lips touch him and his mouth sucks at his skin.

When the chilly air blows on his crotch, Jiyong sees his manhood standing proud as he turns completely naked. But Seungri doesn’t finish yet; his needy lips still tease him through kisses on his thighs, intentionally and playfully keeping a safe distance from his cock—far enough to not create sudden jolt of pleasure, but close enough to let the pre-cum leak.

He moans even louder as a slight peck lands on the head of his cock and a wet tongue slides there, before he feels hot cavern wrapping around his length. Seungri doesn’t take time to take Jiyong’s length inside his mouth, bobbing his head in a rhythmical pace. His fingers plays with the pair of balls—rubbing and pinching them, squeezing the sacks. Jiyong pulls the hair in his hand even tighter, bucking his hip in the same rhythm. “Deeper, Seungri. Deeper,” he continues grunting, fucking the sweet, hot mouth that feels so great around his hard, erected cock. “That… that’s great… Damn. You’re so great.”

“Hhhmmm…” Sengri murmurs his answer, adding vibration around Jiyoung’s manhood, and increases his pace. Jiyong is still moaning words and Seungri’s name as he thrusts even faster, feeling the head of his cock inside the tightness of Seungri’s throat.

Seungri’s still humming, and Jiyong absorbs the pleasure he receives from his cock that spreads throughout his body. He feels his breath gets shorter and his pants heavier—it’s about time for him to come. Jiyong knows words are coming out from his mouth, but the urge to release is too big and he doesn’t even care if whatever he blurts out do not even make sense.

But the next thing he feels is how the heat and wetness around his manhood, ready to burst, suddenly disappears. His eyes meet Seungri’s hazel orbs, going upwards, before the stare levels him. A soft touch on his cheek and a gentle smile in front of him, and Seungri whispers, “But it’s not the time for you to come yet, my dear…”

Panting, feeling the rapid heartbeat inside his chest, Jiyong grumbles, “Tease.” He captures the hand on his cheek with his own and kisses the inner wrist, breathes in the sexual scent it oozes. “Such a… tease.”

“I’m not naked yet, Jiyong. If I remember correctly, my jeans are still there. Mind to help me?”

Jiyong feels a wide smirk forming on his face. Quickly, he leans closer Seungri’s face, leaving the other man squeal in surprise, and kisses him. “With pleasure, Love,” he whispers and pushes the naked chest in front of him.

 

*

 

“With pleasure, Love,” Jiyong murmurs the words through his smiling lips and Seungri’s back meets his soft bed once again. _Love_ , Seungri repeats the word inside his head as Jiyong leans over, his fingers patiently working on the belt wrapping around Seungri’s hip. _Love… that doesn’t sound bad…_

His chest is beating faster, and he knows that’s not only because of the thrilling sensation swelling up for having a man touching him tonight. He doesn’t break his stare from Jiyong’s ethereal dark eyes, once again drowning himself in a mix of emotion beamed through the pair of orbs—the kind of stare that weakens his knees and makes him want to give him as a whole to the other man, because he completely understands how much Jiyong wants him.

Gently, Jiyong pulls Seungri’s jeans, taking them off his legs. Contrary to the stare he gives, his touch feels so soft against Seungri’s skin, full of an earnest of the man’s desire to make love to him. Everything feels so intimate and Seungri wishes if he can slow down the time so this very moment can last even longer than it should be.

“You’re the beauty here, Seungri… Don’t you know that?” The man purrs, each word is full of adulation. Seungri feels he’s blushing and he automatically tries to hide his face only to no avail as the gravity of Jiyong’s eyes is too strong to defy.

Jiyong spreads Seungri’s legs and stands on his knees, between the open thighs. His eyes are no longer meeting Seungri’s as they are indulging the sight before him—Seungri feels more thrill of arousal coming from every part of his body, rushing towards his cock. And now that he’s completely naked, he can see how his manhood has risen following the sexually pleasing sensation his body experiences.

Jiyong lifts one of his legs over his bare shoulder. The soft touch of the tip of Jiyong’s fingers, nose, and lips makes a whimper escape from Seungri’s lips, before the other man continues by landing soft pecks downwards.

“Beautiful… beautiful…” Quiet hums come from the lips in every kiss Jiyong puts on Seungri’s leg. Jiyong sits on his knees when his lips start kissing Seungri’s inner thigh, occasionally nipping at the skin playfully.

Everything Jiyong does is done earnestly and gently, which makes it more rousing for Seungri, with more and more pleasure piling up inside Seungri’s chest as more and more quiet moans coming out from his mouth. He cannot stop feeling the shivers down his spine whenever Jiyong touches him slowly, and the rush of thrilling sensation gets even stronger once the contact leaves only to emerge on different spot.

Seungri reaches his hand out, unable to resist the feeling of having his hardened cock neglected, intending to pump it. But another hand quickly grabs his wrist just when he nearly touches his manhood—Jiyong’s hand.

The dark chocolatey eyes peek while Jiyong’s still sucking at Seungri’s inner thigh. Seungri can see a small smirk formed, and the man sucks even harder, leaving him gasping and whimpering. “J-Jiyong…”

The called man approaches him, getting on all his fours and hovering Seungri’s naked body without releasing the hand in his hold, resting the holding hands over Seungri’s head. Jiyong moves Seungri’s leg from his naked shoulder, letting it wrap around his waist. “Why hurry, Seungri? You’ve told me earlier that we had _all_ day…” he nuzzles Seungri’s neck, licking the Adam’s apple. “And for me—ooohhh…”

The whimper reverberates against Seungri’s neck, absorbed by the pores of his skin, and Seungri doesn’t intend to stop—both of his legs tightly wrap around Jiyong, pushing the man closer. Their groins meet, and Seungri bucks towards the man on top of him, letting their dicks rubbing against each other.

“I… Jiyong…” Seungri calls despite of panting. His free hand is holding Jiyong’s lean, muscular biceps, burying his nails there.

“Yes, Love?” the other voice answers, coming out from the tight gap between the lips and the skin the man seemingly never gets tired of marking.

That word again; _Love_. Seungri feels a smile formed on his mouth. “Nothing… It’s just… Don’t… don’t stop…” _This feeling, whatever it is… please don’t stop…_ “I want you inside me.”

With one playful lick in Seungri’s earlobe, Jiyong raises his face. His eyes find their way to rest on Seungri’s once again, beaming with warmth and adoration Seungri can easily capture only in one millisecond. Jiyong’s fingers are playing with the tousled strands around his forehead, then his face comes closer. His breathe fans Seungri’s face for a brief moment before their lips meet—brief enough for the black-haired man to whisper, “Whatever you want, my love.”

 

*

 

Jiyong is completely conscious about what Seungri has been wanting from him ever since the auburn-haired man pulled him into his apartment. But he never wants to hurry everything; he simply wants to savor the moment while he can. He admires Seungri’s beauty, and finds himself completely fascinated by the sight as he stripped the man naked and had him pinned under him, so close and so yielding…

The body, completely bare and meek, is too unearthly beautiful. _Too venerating_ , Jiyong tells himself, feeling their bodies pressed hard against each other. _Too sacred to be part of this world_ …

Even ‘beautiful’ is no longer enough to describe how the man is for him, no matter how many times he spells it out to Seungri.

He doesn’t want this amazing moment to happen merely as a casual fuck, once he realizes that the longer they touch, the stronger the feeling he has inside towards the man he’s been marking… _And hopefully lovemaking with_ , his thought, clouded by his desire for Seungri, wonders when his tongue delves deep and deeper inside Seungri’s wet, hot cavern.

One hand makes its way downwards, running over Seungri’s hard cock—seemingly as hard as his—and brushing it against the balls, then finally reaches the cheeks. Jiyong deepens the kiss and his finger rubs the hole, circling it. Only in a split-second, the body under him reacts in a way that arouses Jiyong even more once Seungri slightly arches his back and presses his pelvis even harder against him.

Unwillingly, Jiyong pulls himself away from the deep kiss. “Seungri… lube?”

The man under him is breathing heavily, groaning in disappointment once a distance grows between them. “No… don’t need to. Just put your fingers inside my mouth.” The hazel eyes do not waver. “Now, Jiyong. Now…” he moans his request in a way that makes Jiyong want to do nothing but follow it.

Seungri’s legs are no longer wrapping him, allowing Jiyong to move freely as he tastes the cat-like mouth for the last time with his tongue before slipping his fingers into it, His lips move towards the firm chest, twirling his tongue around the nipples and sucking at the skin around it. The other hand moves from the hole to finally pay more attention to Seungri’s hard manhood, pumping it steadily.

“Faster,” Seungri’s whisper escapes between sucked fingers. “Faster… Jiyong.”

Seungri’s moan gets louder once Jiyong increases his pace down there, yet he still sucks the fingers inside his mouth. Jiyong’s name also escapes from the lips, turning Jiyong on even more. “Just come if you want to, Seungri,” he groans before his lips move to spoil the other hard nipple.

“Mmmmhhh…” is the only thing he gets as an answer as the man bucks against Jiyong’s hand in every pump made.

And so they go on like that, with Jiyong’s tongue wets Seungri’s hardened nipple as the man also leaves bite marks on the soft skin wrapping the firm, muscular chest. The hand is still giving pleasure on Seungri’s length, slowly increasing its speed, and the other man whimpers in lust while sucking the fingers inside his mouth real hard.

In an instance, Jiyong pulls his fingers out from Seungri’s mouth, but he doesn’t mean to give Seungri a break once their lips join in a kiss again—his tongue quickly slips into it, making the most of Seungri’s parted lips. The fingers, now wet enough, are back to tease the hole. The passionate kiss continues while Jiyong inserts one finger into Seungri’s entrance. The body under him tenses, but it doesn’t take long until he feels Seungri has started to relaxed.

He slips another finger and another one and another one while pushing them deeper than before. Each finger inserted, Seungri’s body reacts quickly. The deeper the finger enters, the more passionate the kiss becomes.

“J-Jiyong, I…”

Jiyong ends the kiss for a brief moment, knowing how more erratic Seungri’s breath has become. “You’ll come?” And he gets a faint nod as an answer.

 

*

 

Those are only fingers inside his hole, but the sensation Seungri’s experiencing right now is so overwhelming. Maybe it’s because Jiyong pumping his cock until it’s ready to burst, or maybe it’s because of how amazing the man’s touch is. He experiences an otherworldly pleasure, unable to hold on anything, and feels his nails digging deep in his palms as he grabs the bedsheets on his sides tightly and frantically.

Seungri can feel the fingers finally hit somewhere inside him that creates an intense thrill spreading throughout his body. While his lips are connected to Jiyong’s, he can only make muffled sound since his tongue is too busy exploring Jiyong’s sweet, hot cavern untiringly. His body reacts by bucking against the fingers inside him as the lustful sensation overpowers him.

Then he cannot hold it any longer. His testicles have shown the signs that they are about to burst, demanding him to empty them from their contents. Not so long after he barely nods his answer to Jiyong, he shoots with his deflating length still inside Jiyong’s hand.

Panting, Seungri tries to focus his sight and notices that the black-haired man and his inked body is no longer on top of him. “Ji-Jiyong…?” His eyes look around and immediately find the guy he’s looking for back to his sitting position. Raising his head slightly—the aftereffect from his climax still hasn’t vanished completely—he sees Jiyong’s coating his own shaft with something.

The hand, wet with Seungri’s cum, is wrapping Jiyong’s length. The man notices Seungri’s stare as he slightly raises his stare, giving Seungri a reassuring smile. “Wait a minute, Seungri…”

Seungri nods—or the best attempt he can do to show his affirmation—and throws his head back. “Don’t… don’t take too long…” he asks amidst the panting. _He’s coming…_ “Jiyong, please. Enter me n—”

But then there are two hands—Jiyong’s hands—gently part his legs wider. A soft rub on his shanks is full of affection, followed by another gentle touch that pushes his knees up; Jiyong is making sure Seungri’s opening more accessible. He hears the sound of Jiyong spitting and the next thing he knows is fingers rubbing his hole once again. “Ahh…” he sighs, while his body squirms instinctively.

“Seungri,” Jiyong’s low voice vibrates throughout the quiet room.

“Yessss…?”

But the quiet doesn’t last long once Jiyong’s eyes are the last thing Seungri sees before his lips are, for the umpteenth times, claimed by the other man this night. Frantically, Seungri’s hand looks for something to hold—one hand grabs the bare biceps and the other one finds Jiyong’s lean waist. He feels something is pushing against his hole that makes his body tensed; it has to be Jiyong’s cock.

Jiyong still does not rush everything. He merely runs the mushroom head over the hole, teasing it before pushing the dick inside once again. _Enter me! Now!_ Seungri can only scream mentally as his mouth doesn’t get even a slight opportunity to let the words slip out; they’re being claimed as a whole by a man named Kwon Jiyong.

And his opening stretches eventually and easily with Jiyong pushes his length further inside him. Seungri moans straight into Jiyong’s mouth, full of his demand of wanting more and more entering him. It seems like Jiyong understands the cue once he starts to move his pelvis back and forth, slowly thrusts himself into Seungri.

Seungri will not lie, saying that it’s not painful even though he is not a virgin anymore. But he has experiences and prefers to focus his senses on the taste of Jiyong’s cavern that melts in his taste buds, the feeling of the muscles of Jiyong’s body flexing under his hands, the aroma of Jiyong’s carnal scent he manages to inhale… and suddenly the pain is nothing compared to the amazing sensations his senses are experiencing.

But there’s one thing… one thing he has never found in other men who had been touching him before…

The way Jiyong’s body and touch have made him feel… it’s completely different. It is indeed full of passion, lust, and desire, but Seungri can also sense sincerity and something he may not dare to mention for now; not until the man who’s been treating him like he’s the most precious thing on earth says the word first.

Seungri feels the taste of metal in his mouth; it can be his blood or Jiyong’s. The kiss ends for a while, but long enough for him to let his moaning escapes from Jiyong’s mouth. “More! Oh my God, give me more, Jiyong. More! Deeper! Faster!” He can hear Jiyong grunts his answer, but Seungri simply wants to feel Jiyong completely inside him.

For a brief moment, Seungri no longer feels lonely.

 

*

 

More and more of himself has found its way entering Seungri’s body and the kiss, again and again, has turned into something way more passionate. Now Jiyong wants to give all of him and a slight part of his consciousness, not yet blurred by his lust, tells him what to do next.

Following his instinct and Seungri’s moan of demands, Jiyong pulls himself back and stands on his knees once again. The strange emptiness he feels when he’s no longer inside Seungri doesn’t linger for too long when he lifts the pair of open legs in front of him, resting them over his shoulders.

He isn’t going to take things as slow as before once he starts banging the other man, panting and moaning louder and harder. “Seungri…” he grunts, overwhelmed by the arousal for having his inflating cock wrapped around perfectly by Seungri’s hole. “You’re so perfect, even you’re perfectly… tight… Oh God…” He keeps thrusting in a faster pace, his eyes don’t break their stare from the auburn-haired man who has turned into a moaning mess, still begging him to go faster and deeper.

Seungri doesn’t return the gaze as his hazel-colored iris has disappeared, leaving only the white part when the orbs roll back in pleasure. Meanwhile, Jiyong quickly notices that the man’s cock has erected once again and Seungri’s hand frantically reaches for it, wanting to satisfy himself. Unlike before, Jiyong lets the man pump his own self, listening to the words coming out from his parted lips, “Oh, Jiyong… Yes, yes… hit that. God, you’re great. God!”

Jiyong realizes that he is almost there, so he slows down his pace. His hips eventually move slower, but each thrust is still as deep as before. Jiyong, after all, knows where to aim.

“I’ll come…” Seungri purrs, still pumping his length. “I’m coming, Jiyong…”

His breathing and grunt and moaning become one with Seungri’s; the sounds are blending in an erratic pace that fills up the space. Jiyong never wants to keep his eyes off of Seungri… but the way Seungri’s arse muscles hold his swollen dick, still inside the man, as Seungri comes is too intense. The thick liquid splatters all over their stomachs, some find their way to land on Jiyong’s chest.

The sight of Seungri reaching his orgasm pushes Jiyong to a different level as the urge to fuck the man swelling up. He remembers his promise to make love to Seungri, but his body refuses to obey. It’s as if his muscles have taken control over his body as he leans forward, increasing his speed as he’s pushing his manhood deep and deeper inside Seungri, nibbling the lower lip furiously.

“Seungri, why so tight?” Jiyong groans, his body spasms in response to Seungri’s climax. The body under him, still shuddering after his second orgasm, remains meek. “I should’ve done this right from the first time I saw you… so I can… hear you scream my name in… in that beautiful voice of yours… Shit, how long are you going to stay tight like… like _thisss_ …?” He whispers his last words as he mentally sees the blinding light comes nearer inside his head; his climax is nearing.

Jiyong presses his lips harder on Seungri’s neck, letting his moan absorbed by the softness of the skin. He growls once he realizes that he cannot hold it any longer, “I’m coming. I’m coming…”

Indistinct voice comes out from his mouth and blends with the moaning of his name coming from Seungri’s mouth. “Come inside me. Fill me up… Jiyong… please…”

Raising his stare, Jiyong finds a pair of hazel eyes greeting him. Their eyes are glued to each other and he thinks, at this very moment, the man under him looks the most beautiful than ever. They’re staring at each other until Jiyong finally unloads himself. His body trembles, falling into Seungri’s hold, as he squirts and fills Seungri up with his cum.

Jiyong lets himself embraced like that, not pulling his deflating cock out from Seungri yet, for a little longer. His nostril is filled with Seungri’s scent—it stays sweet even though the air is still thick with the remnants of sex—and his loneliness completely disappears.

 

*

 

Seungri releases Jiyong from his hands as the man rolls to his side. Laying naked next to each other, the silence reclaims the bedroom once again.

 _Did I do it right?_ His thought wonders aimlessly. _Has God granted my prayer? I didn’t mess the day, did I?_

Then he feels a body shifts closer to him and when he turns his head sideways, Jiyong’s loving stare greets him. His hand rests on Seungri’s waist, pulling their bodies closer.

“Let’s sleep, Seungri,” Jiyong smiles.

Seungri returns the smile and stretches for the pillows. He nuzzles himself, letting Jiyong envelops him, and their bare legs are tangled to keep each other warm. _But that word sounds better than my name…_ His hoping heart wonders if he will ever hear Jiyong calls him with that name again.

Leaning his head against Jiyong’s chest, the heartbeat slowly lulls Seungri to sleep. _Maybe…_ his mind tells him before the sleepiness claim his consciousness. _Just maybe… falling doesn’t always hurt me._

 

* * *

 

 

 


	12. Not a Bad Thing

 

“Every morning, I just wanna see you staring back at me ‘cause I know that’s a good place to start.”  
Justin Timberlake, _Not a Bad Thing_

 

* * *

 

 

It doesn’t take long for Jiyong to recognize the blaring sound that has disrupted him from his peaceful slumber. It’s still irritating to hear it, but it’s the kind of irritation he’s so used to already. His hand stretches for his phone while the man grunts— _Should’ve turn off the phone before sleeping_ , he says to himself though he knows it’s likely not going to happen anyway.

“KWON FUCKING JIYONG!!!” A loud scream greets Jiyong right after he answers the call. “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL NIGHT? YOU’RE NOT KIDNAPPED, ARE YOU?”

Jiyong hisses while nesting himself back under the comfort of the blanket. “Choi. Seunghyun. Stop. Screaming. You’re. Turning. Me. Deaf.”

“Hey!” Seunghyun screams his complaint. “I’m worried about you. It’s like you’ve gone MIA since last night; I can’t even find you in your apartment now! Where are you? Answer me or Daesung and I will call the police immediately. Wherever you are now, whatever you do AND are going to do, please don’t do something stupid, okay? My future… _our_ future, Daesung’s and mine… is in your hand, remember? You deserve to live, Jiyong. Don’t die. You—”

“SHUT THE HELL UP, DICKHEAD! Let me speak now. What do you mean with not finding me in my apartment?” Jiyong rubs his eye and feels furrows forming on his forehead. “Don’t talk nonsense this early morning because now I’m—” With his body laying sideways, he can see that _apparently_ , there’s a door, swinging open, and a face of a man appears from behind it—a face he will never mistake as someone else’s.

“Jiyong? Whom are you talking to?” Seungri asks.

“Jiyong? Don’t hallucinate, because I’m in _your_ bedroom now and you’re nowhere to be found. Geez, are you on drugs now?” Seunghyun demands.

The man, however, has his focused pinned solely at the other man standing on the doorway, whose milky white skin is tainted by marks scattered all across his body—many of them have turned darker. Jiyong’s jaw nearly drops, or at least that’s what he thinks upon noticing that he definitely is _not_ in his apartment. And one moment later, he quickly notices his nakedness under the layer of comforting blanket.

And then the memories of what happened the day and night before course into his consciousness, filling his mind up with the glimpses of scenes that overwhelm him: the tangled fingers as his hand was held by Seungri, the sweet taste of Seungri’s lips absorbed in his tongue, the heated bodies pressed against each other, the moaning of his name coming from Seungri’s mouth…

Jiyong blinks and Seunghyun’s nagging slowly finds its way entering his hearing system. But Jiyong is too occupied with another matter of urgency, and getting scolded by his best friend isn’t even as close as being a secondary.

“Yo, Seunghyun,” Jiyong raises his body without breaking his stare from Seungri, who covers himself with nothing but shorts and is approaching the bed, “You’re right. I haven’t been home since last night, but I’m fine now. I’ll talk to you later. Bye!”

“Are you in Seungri’s place? Hey! Ji—”

Jiyong throws his phone and smiles at Seungri, who already seats himself on the edge of the bed. “It was Seunghyun and… sorry for… for screaming.” Not knowing what to do, he only tousles his hair rather awkwardly, even though a small smile formed on Seungri’s face should be enough to tell him there’s nothing to worry about. “And…” he clears his throat, “…good morning.”

“Good morning, Jiyong,” the man’s smile doesn’t vanish, even though there’s blushing spreading on his cheeks. “I just finished cooking breakfast, so if you…” his head tilts slightly towards the door, “…well, if you’re hungry already… we can eat together.”

And Jiyong sees it. It may not be as clear as day, but the stare Seungri gives him, plus his invitation to have breakfast together… _Last night… it definitely is not a fuck for him_ , the little voice in his head tells him. Then suddenly, it feels like there’s a mysterious burden being lifted up from his chest, replaced by a flutter that spreads to his face, curling the corners of his lips upwards.

The pressure on the edge of the bed disappears when Seungri raises his body, slightly turning his body around to keep his stare at Jiyong and glancing over his naked, marked shoulder. Jiyong can see how the pair of lips he has savored all night parted slowly, but his reflex, much to Jiyong’s luck, is more responsive than his brain.

“Stay with me.” Just like that, the words slipped out from his mouth. _Damn, Kwon Jiyong. What did you just say?_ “Stay here, Seungri.” His hand pats the empty spot on the bed near him. “Please?”

Jiyong breaks the stare to fix his position, trying to cover the lower part of his body with the blanket. _Oh wait,_ he suddenly notices, _Why do I even have a blanket? Did Seungri cover me?_ When he raises his stare, he cannot lie that he feels happy when the pressure on the bed is back with Seungri sits cross-legged in front of him. _And what kind of… pillow talk is this?_ He sneers, laughing at himself. _We’re supposed to wake up together, still on the bed, cuddling and spooning…_

There are so many things popping out in his head, waiting to be expressed through words that are already on the tip of his tongue, waiting to slip out from his mouth. But Jiyong feels lost, not knowing how to say any single word, since the feelings return, overwhelming him.

All Jiyong can feel is how happy he is right here and right now just by looking at Seungri’s face in front of him… to find Seungri as the very first person he sees right after he opened his eyes. This feels different, but a kind of difference he doesn’t mind at all. He recalls the nothingness in his bedroom that he always sees whenever he wakes up, but he cannot remember how it looks, nor can he remember that he always wakes up alone.

And the face of someone he really admires is one thing that sticks to his mind, as if Seungri is the one he has been seeing all the time once he opens his eyes… as if the man has become a part of his life since forever. He admires the man so much until ‘admiration’ is no longer enough to describe whatever feeling he’s having in his chest.

Seungri’s eyes are still looking at him, even though the face is slightly lowered. _That’s it_ , Jiyong squeals mentally. His eyes witness how the blushing cheeks get redder as if Seungri is slowly transforming into a tomato. _No, not tomato. It’s a strawberry. The cutest and sweetest strawberry I’ve ever seen… and tasted._

Jiyong leans himself closer towards the blushing guy in front of him, reaching out his hand and rests it on the small of Seungri’s neck to bring the face closer. His sight captures the look of surprise the hazel eyes express, even though the auburn-haired man doesn’t pull himself away from Jiyong’s ministration. He doesn’t really care if the white blanket covering his pelvis fails to do its purpose as his mind is too occupied by the one and only thing.

Their lips brush slightly; their breath touches each other’s skin warmly. But Jiyong doesn’t continue as their forehead are glued together. His other hand rests on Seungri’s chest, the palm is right on the spot where the man’s heart beats, feeling each thump of life that goes faster in every passing second… Then he notices there’s another palm resting on the same spot of his; Seungri’s hand.

His eyes see the parted lips lining the ever-smiling, cat-like mouth. Oh how Jiyong wants to claim the lips like he did last night, but he tries his best to resist the temptation… until he feels Seungri pushing him and the lips finally smash.

Seungri has pushed him gently, but he does it with a force that brings Jiyong on his back. Their legs immediately tangled, just like they were the night before, as they’re laying with their bodies sideways, glued to each other. Jiyong’s hand rests on the small of Seungri’s back, pulling the man closer to him, so close until he cannot tell whose heartbeat he’s feeling in his chest—his own heartbeat or Seungri’s—since their chests are glued together.

Seungri treats him oh so gently; his lips nip at Jiyong’s for several times before a soft bite on the lower lip makes a moan escape from Jiyong’s open mouth. The tongue lurks into his cavern quickly, touching each spot inside Jiyong’s mouth in a way that makes Jiyong can do nothing but surrender.

But the kiss doesn’t last long enough to make Jiyong aroused, even though he’s aware that it’s getting hot down there. After a long kiss that sucks Jiyong’s soul away, Seungri brings it to an end. The auburn-colored locks are spread all across Jiyong’s arm as the head nestles there with Jiyong straightening his arm and letting it serve as a pillow.

He feels the tip of Seungri’s nose nuzzles his chin and when he stares at the man, he’s greeted by a loving look. “Now,” Seungri’s quiet word and breath feels comforting against his neck, close enough to fan his ear, “this is how a pillow talk’s supposed to be, right?”

Jiyong chuckles, burying his nose to inhale the fresh scent of Seungri’s strands. “You’re right,” he murmurs his answer against the softness of the auburn locks.

“So, Jiyong… why? And what?”

“Hmm?” Jiyong breathes in Seungri’s scent and shifts to envelope the other man in his embrace even more comfortably. “‘Why’ what and ‘what’ what?”

“Why… why me?” Slightly lowering his head, Seungri hides his blushing face from Jiyong’s stare. “And… what does this… make us?”

_Why, eh?_ Jiyong rolls his eyes upwards, finding the empty ceiling greeting his sight. “As for why… well, it’ll be a long sto—”

“I’ll listen to it. I’ll listen everything.”

“You’ve been saying that since yesterday, Seung… Love.”

And there that is, another sight that nearly makes Jiyong unable to resist the temptation of squeezing the blushing, chubby cheeks as Seungri lifts his stare and rounds his bright eyes. The look beamed is purely endearing, full of surprise, that makes Jiyong land a tender peck on the forehead. “You heard me,” he purrs his affirmation while brushing his nose against the skin. “You heard me correctly… Love.”

Seungri’s voice hums and reverberates on his neck as the man snuggles his head closer. “But… why?”

“Because… I like you,” Jiyong plants a kiss on Seungri’s temple, on the spot where the forehead meets the strands of bright auburn color. “I really like you,” another kiss, “I like you so much,” and another one. “I like you, Seungri. A lot. Ever since I saw you for the first time, though I only saw you from a distance, I’ve been admiring you. I almost cannot stop myself from talking about you. I’ve never thought that I’d meet you again, but… well… here we are now.”

“Didn’t we meet only… two weeks ago?”

Jiyong’s mouth stretches widely at once. “No, Seungri. The day I found you… it’s not yesterday, nor is it last week or two weeks before.” Seungri’s arm, initially rested against Jiyong’s chest, snakes across his body and brings Jiyong to a tighter embrace. “And about ‘what’… Well, isn’t the answer so clear already, Seungri?”

Seungri purrs; the voice vibrates against Jiyong’s beating heart. “Say it,” he hums. “Say it, Jiyong.”

“Lee Seungri…” Jiyong calls and the other man murmurs his response. “Like I’ve told you, I like you. However, that’s not enough…” His hand, resting on the small of Seungri’s back, moves up and plays with the auburn-colored strands that fall on Seungri’s face. “What happened last night… for me, it wasn’t only for last night. I want you, _all of you_. I want to love you, Seungri. Do you—”

The head resting next to Jiyong raises, revealing two bright colored eyes that express nothing but pure happiness. “I do,” the words come out from the parted lips. “I do… I do. I want to… love you too…”

The smile on his face does not seem to disappear any soon, even as Jiyong presses his lips on Seungri’s temple, absorbing the comfortable warmth the singer-slash-baker radiates. But none of the heat and comfort will disappear as their bodies are still glued together and legs are entangled. For a split-second, Jiyong wants the time to stop so they can stay like that forever, but he soon gets rid of that thought from his mind.

_Because things are going to be better from now on, Jiyong_ , the voice in his head tells him. And the moment when his lips meet Seungri’s, Jiyong knows that it’s true.

“Lee Seungri! How dare you tossed the blazer I’ve gifted you! Don’t bother to deny it; I saw it soon after I opened the door!” A shout startles both men who are still laying on the bed, forcing them to break the kiss—with the bedroom door is still open, the loud voice reaches their ears right away. “So you’ve done cooking for the breakfast, huh? And how could you not reply to my messages—”

A blonde enters the bedroom, and his stare finds Jiyong and Seungri at once, who quickly raise their bodies while frantically trying to hide their bareness—especially Jiyong, since he’s completely naked, unlike Seungri who still has shorts covering his private area. Jinwoo exchange a stare with Jiyong and Seungri alternately; his lips are rounded, so are his doe eyes.

The room is filled with the deafening, awkward silence that leaves all of them unable to move. The ticks and the tocks inside Jiyong’s head ring loudly and he feels his mouth open, ready to say something, but no word comes out.

“I guess I’ll go home now,” Jinwoo, still looking as awkward as he was when he found them on the bed, turns his body around. “Forgive my… my intrusion. Enjoy your breakfast… and Seungri, it’s still around 9:00 A.M. so you still have time to prepare before your job... I’ll keep the suit you’ll wear in the living room.” And the blonde flees as immediate as he entered the chamber.

But none of Seungri and Jiyong dares to move an inch, even though a few moments have passed since the blonde went. But then Seungri throws his body back to the bed and his laughter rings clearly amidst the silence. “I’m sorry, but that… Jinwoo’s expression… That’s something to remember for a lifetime.” The auburn-haired man rubs his palms all over his face, still chuckling. “I had to forget that our clothes were still outside… I only picked your jeans when I woke up earlier.”

Following Seungri, Jiyong also lets his body fall and soon, his laughter joins Seungri’s. “Geez… Luckily Jinwoo is nothing like Seunghyun. If it was him, he’d be busy asking us questions while showing his annoying grin.”

“Then we’re lucky…” Seungri turns his head to face Jiyong, a sheepish smile is carved on his face. “But you still have a story to tell me, Jiyong.”

Jiyong welcomes the stare by replying the smile, shifting his body closer towards the man, now his _boyfriend_. “I’ve told you, it’s a long story. You have a singing job today, right?”

“It’s at noon; we still have plenty of time. But…” A rumble, coming from Jiyong’s stomach, cuts him. “It’s breakfast in bed, then.” Snickering, Seungri releases himself from Jiyong’s embrace while kissing him until the distance that grows slowly ends it. “And if you want to wear something, Jiyong, let me tell you that your pants are on the chair.”

Lazily, Jiyong drags himself towards the armchair near the window, taking his boxer briefs only. He pulls the maroon curtain, letting more sunlight enter the room and basking under the warm light for a while.

“Breakfast’s ready!” Seungri’s call chimes in his brief moment of solitude, averting Jiyong’s gaze towards the bedroom door. Seungri enters with a wooden tray in his hands, filled with porcelain plates, glasses, and pitcher. Jiyong chuckles upon seeing the frown formed on Seungri’s forehead and how the man walks carefully, each step is taken slowly; the concentration is too obvious to see.

“Here, Seungri. It feels more comfortable here. Plus, we have a view.” Jiyong leans down and sits cross-legged on the carpeted floor.

Seungri carefully lowers himself and Jiyong helps, even though that apparently still isn’t enough for Seungri to accidentally tip one of the glasses—filled with orange juice, according to the scent—and the liquid soon falls on Jiyong’s body once the tray lands firmly on the floor.

“I’m sorry!” A squeal immediately escapes from Seungri’s mouth, full of surprise.

“Mmm!!!” Jiyong shakes his head while sucking his fingers, drenched by the orange juice. “It’s okay. I’ll clean myself… first… Seungri, what are y—”

Jiyong yelps in surprise when two hands firmly push him onto the floor, and the next thing he knows is Seungri hovering him with his head so close to his shoulder—the one where he inked his nail with a picture of a dragon ball from Dragon Ball anime—passing his tongue over the skin.

“Don’t move, Jiyong,” Seungri hums. “I need to clean out your body first, okay?” He puts the tip of his tongue on Jiyong’s chest, passing it over his skin. “You can continue your story now…”

Gulping, Jiyong can feel his Adam’s apple moves up and down as his hands travel down to Seungri’s clothed cheeks. It’s safe to say that the foods aren’t touched at all and Seungri has to have his late breakfast in a hurry, giving Jiyong a quick kiss before entering a taxi.

 

*

 

_How’s the date? x_  
From: Seunghyun, Choi (09:45 P.M. XX/03/08)

 

_I ASKED HOW THE DATE WAS MORON x_  
From: Seunghyun, Choi (10:05 P.M. XX/03/08)

 

_Yo I’ll see you tomorrow morning & you better tell me EVERYTHING x_  
From: Seunghyun, Choi (10:10 P.M. XX/03/08)

 

_BTW did you notice my last message was sent EXACTLY at 10:10?_  
 _You better make a wish to stay alive once the sun rises._  
From: Seunghyun, Choi (10:11 P.M. XX/03/08)

 

_I forgot the small x_  
 _x_  
From: Seunghyun, Choi (10:11 P.M. XX/03/08)

 

_WHY HAVENT YOU ANSWER MY TEXTS x  
_ From: Seunghyun, Choi (07:45 A.M.)

 

_IM ON MY WAY TO YOUR PLACE_  
 _With Dae x_  
From: Seunghyun, Choi (08:01 A.M.)

 

_WHERE ARE YOU WHY ARENT YOU IN YOUR APT x_  
From: Seunghyun, Choi (08:25 A.M.)

 

_WHY DID YOU HANG UP YOU UNGRATEFUL PIECE OF ASS I WORRY ABOUT YOU x_  
From: Seunghyun, Choi (08:39 A.M.)

 

_So did you do it? Did you get laid? x_  
From: Seunghyun, Choi (09:13 A.M.)

 

_DONT LEAVE ME HANGING DONT ABANDON ME IN THIS SUSPENSE x_  
From: Seunghyun, Choi (10:21 A.M.)

 

_Hey, Jiyong. Don’t mind Seunghyun; he has calmed himself down now (after three buckets of Baskin-Robbins, sadly). Are you home now? I assume the date went well, eh? Congrats! Can’t wait to hear anything from you soon! x_  
From: Daesung, Kang (11:22 A.M.)

 

_Aaaaaand we’ll be hosting a party next week. Just a small one, in our place. Seunghyun wants it so that’s why it’s so sudden (to be exact, he asked for the party when she finished the second bucket). And your answer is…? X_  
 _P.S.: You don’t have to come alone, IYKWIM ;)_  
From: Daesung, Kang (11:27 A.M.)

 

_Sorry, Daesung. Been so busy since last night. Of course I’ll come! BTW, I’m on my way to seal the deal with the catering (so he can stop asking me to add more foods). And have you & Seunghyun picked which suit color to wear?_  
 _If Seunghyun has a stomachache, tell him not to blame me._  
 _P.S.: I haven’t asked Seungri, but I’m sure he’ll come with me too._  
Sent to: Daesung, Kang (01:03 P.M.)

 

_Jiyong! Do you know what I just bought?_  
 _YES! YOUR BOOKS! ALL OF THEM <3_  
 _Too bad I cannot find “The Unexpected Journey of Carlotta the Carrot and Sophia the Spinach”…_  
From: Seungri, Lee (03:58 P.M.)

 

_I’ve called the publisher and will drop by to pick up the book tomorrow. And you should’ve told me if you wanted to read them; I have more than one copy for each title in my place._  
Sent to: Seungri, Lee (04:09 P.M.)

 

_But I couldn’t find them the last time I went to your place?_  
From: Seungri, Lee (04:11 P.M.)

 

_They’re in my bedroom, Love. The books don’t fit the decoration._  
Sent to: Seungri, Lee (04:14 P.M.)

 

_Then let me come to your place tomorrow… to fetch the books, of course! :P_  
From: Seungri, Lee (04:20 P.M.)

 

_Too bad, I’m expecting something more. :(_  
Sent to: Seungri, Lee (04:21 P.M.)

 

_What’s that? :P_  
From: Seungri, Lee (04:22 P.M.)

 

_Bedtime stories?_  
Sent to: Seungri, Lee (04:22 P.M.)

 

_Hmmm… Read me your stories every night. How about that?_  
From: Seungri, Lee (04:33 P.M.)

 

_That’s an even better idea._  
Sent to: Seungri, Lee (04:35 P.M.)

 

 

The dial tone ends as Seungri’s voice greets him in his cheery tone Jiyong has gotten used to. “Jiyong? I was about to send you a reply to your text! What’s—”

“Seungri,” Jiyong flutters upon noticing how great it feels to say the name.

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

 

* * *

 

 

 


	13. Fire and the Thud

 

“The day after you stole my heart, everything I touched told me it would be better shared with you.”  
Arctic Monkeys, _Fire and the Thud_

 

* * *

 

 

Seungri’s mouth opens following a tender, playful nibble on his lower lip. Jiyong’s tongue immediately slips into the cavern, exploring every spot inside; the touch makes him shudder. Jiyong’s back is leaned against his headboard and Seungri’s straddling him, sitting on his lap. Their hands are busy touching each other’s skin underneath the layer of garment they’re wearing, waiting for the cue to rip the unnecessary layer of cloth.

But their clothes stay where they are, even though it means torturing the growing bulge on their crotch as Seungri pulls his head away from the kiss. To hear the disappointment that escapes along with the moan once the connected lips separate, it takes no genius to know that he does it involuntarily.

Jiyong’s hand, nestled on Seungri’s nape, pushes the face closer towards him in an attempt to reclaim the lips. For a brief moment, the other man surrenders, only to break the kiss once again. “Ji-Jiyong… wait…”

“What?” Jiyong grunts his discontentment, feeling wrinkles forming on his forehead. He tries, once again, to kiss his boyfriend only to receive another rejection; now, it’s in a form of a barrier of Seungri’s hand, preventing their lips from meeting. He feels his eyebrows are slanting towards his glabella, expressing his confusion.

He misses Seungri already; once _that_ morning after ended, the new couple hasn’t seen each other until Monday evening, when Seungri paid Jiyong’s apartment a visit for a dinner and to pick up the book Jiyong has promised. On Sunday, Jiyong was too busy all day, going to the ranch where Seunghyun and Daesung’s wedding will take place. Meanwhile Seungri was working at three weddings consecutively and once he returned to his cake shop, he had to help Junhoe bake.

They finished their dinner not so long ago and just like every new couple, Jiyong only wants to make the most of their time to get intimate—a honeymoon phase.

Seungri rolls to his side, adjusting his position to sit as closest as possible while placing Jiyong’s arm to wrap around him and straightening his legs. Jiyong hears Seungri’s breathing as the man rests his head on his shoulder. The quiet stays for a moment as they’re sitting next to each other on Jiyong’s bed.

“Tell me a story, Jiyong,” Seungri breaks the silence.

Jiyong, planting a kiss on Seungri’s auburn-colored locks, purrs, “Bedtime story? Already? We just finished our dinner, Seungri…” His olfaction system quickly distinguishes the scent he’s breathing in, associating it with the feeling of comfort from sipping a cup of hot milk chocolate or coffee, along with the buttery smell of freshly baked cookies, in a rainy afternoon… or maybe because Seungri always carries that buttery scent wherever he goes; it’s not like Jiyong wants to complain about that, though.

“Kind of…” The quiet murmur is followed by the feeling of having a pair of lips pressed against Jiyong’s shoulder blade. “But it’s more like… a game? _Quid pro quo_ ; tell me something and I’ll tell you another one in exchange.”

The black-haired man still absorbs himself in his own comfort, and slowly his desire lessens, leaving him with nothing but a need to cuddle with his boyfriend instead. “What do you want me to tell you?”

“Anything, as long as it’s about you,” the words are muffled by Jiyong’s body. “I don’t know where to start; there are so many things I want to know about you…”

Jiyong tightens his wrap around Seungri’s body while nuzzling his nose on the soft lump of auburn-colored hair. “You know you can ask anything, Love,” he snickers and soon, yelps in surprise when a pair of arms wrap around him, squeezing him tightly. The surprised feeling doesn’t last long once the warmth overwhelms him instead as he plants a gentle, long kiss on Seungri’s head—how the name makes Seungri feel is no longer a secret between them, even without having Seungri telling him first.

The tight squeeze stays for a moment later, until the baker releases his boyfriend from his hug and lays his head on Jiyong’s lap; his hands are playing with Jiyong’s, tangling the fingers. “Then… tell me how you decided to be a children’s book author… and I don’t care if it’ll take all night long.”

A small smile is formed on Jiyong’s face.  “Why I became a children’s book writer, huh? Do you already forget that I still haven’t told you about the first time I saw you?” His free hand plays with Seungri’s strands that are spreading around his face, tousling them.

Seungri bites his lower lip, thinking. “Uhh… I think… I think that one can wait until later, Jiyong. I only want to know more about you.” A wide, toothy smile is formed on the face.

The tip of Jiyong’s forefinger trails Seungri’s facial features as the man feels the contour of the face starting from the eyebrows and going to the nose; he lingers for a few seconds longer once he reaches the tip. Their stare doesn’t break, and it does only when Jiyong gently touches Seungri’s eyelid, feeling the long eyelashes against his skin. He stretches his thumb, grazing the apple of the blushing cheek and slowly moves downwards to the pair of smiling lips. He presses his two fingers there lightly.

One of Seungri’s hand capture Jiyong’s, releasing the fingers from his own lips and taking it upwards before they land on Jiyong’s lips. “Come on,” the quiet words come out from the smiling cat-like mouth, “Tell me. Now.”

A long sigh escapes from Jiyong. “Once upon a time…” Jiyong runs his fingers across Seungri’s strands tenderly, “in a beautiful summer day, there was a boy born and named Kwon Jiyong, the first son of Kwon family and a little brother to his older sister, Kwon Dami. His father owned and ran a small furniture manufacture, while his mother was a great cook for her family.

“Little Jiyong and his sister were good children… and truly they were. They occasionally bickered, but it was nothing more than just sibling quarrel, and whenever that happened, their mother was always there to calm them by telling stories. But the stories his mother told were not like those fairytales parents often read to their children. Often, there was no a princess who needed to be saved by a prince, a fierce and cruel witch, or a curse to break. No. No Snow White, no Cinderella, no Rapunzel. His mother didn’t need to read them a book because she was full of imagination.”

Seungri turns his body sideways, snuggling himself closer towards Jiyong as the tip of his nose touches Jiyong’s belly. “Keep going…” he murmurs; his eyes blink and the stare is full of anticipation.

A gentle ruffle across Seungri’s hair and Jiyong continues, “Little Jiyong always believed that her mother had a colorful brain full of beautiful, sweet things, because every story she told him and his sister was so magical and whimsical. She never told them the same story twice. One day, she could tell a story about two little kids who accidentally found a door that took them to a world where everything and everyone were created as a pair. The next day, the story was about a proud little girl whose soul was transformed into a cat and the only way to return to her human form was nothing but sitting and observing humans; that was how she learnt the truths about what people around her had been thinking about her.

“His mother and her unending stories were the reasons why Little Jiyong had a memorable and meaningful childhood. He learnt to dream… of a world where everything was possible, of a place where sincerity and kindness were always important. Since then, Little Jiyong already knew that he didn’t need to be a prince who’d save a princess, a knight who’d fight a fierce dragon, or a king to rule a land. All he wanted to do was to share the same excitement and dreams to other kids. He wanted more kids to dream too… to be happy in their own innocent world. He wished for more kids to keep dreaming even though they were growing into adults…

“And Little Jiyong never stopped dreaming. He never stopped believing that such dreams were every kid’s right, even though he had grown into an adult… Oh, yes, Little Jiyong was like every little kid out there, who had to grow up and grow old. But he learnt the hard way that once he was older, he should dream such thing no more. ‘That’s not what adults do,’ said people around him. ‘Your dream should be something more realistic; be a doctor, an accountant, or a lawyer,’ said someone else. ‘Don’t be a fool!’ was something he heard so often, because apparently, the Society of Proper Adults couldn’t regard what Little Jiyong had always been keeping in his heart as something… acceptable.

“That made Little Jiyong wonder, ‘Why should dream always be associated with a profession?’ ‘Can’t something like doing good deeds for a lifetime be considered as a dream too? Is dreaming a better world unacceptable? Is a dream cannot be a simple thing? He wondered and wondered and wondered… ‘Can’t everyone dream freely?’”

There’s a tight hold wrapping around his hand—the one not playing with Seungri’s hair—that grabs Jiyong’s attention quickly. Seungri doesn’t utter any single word, though his bright, rounded eyes do not waver and are pinned on Jiyong. A loud silence lingers in the room, yet it’s full of assurance; Jiyong regains his calmness once again and continues his story.

“Little Jiyong, who was a 21-year-old man, accepted everything people had been telling him… that he would never be able to be accepted by the Society of Proper Adults… that his dream would be futile… that he should forget his dream already. But he was stubborn and he knew it well, so he kept pushing himself, not caring about those who kept telling him to do differently.

“His mother, an old woman then, never lost her faith on him… much to his luck. ‘You dream something so beautiful… how can I ever say no to that?’ was what she told him when Little Jiyong visited his family, telling them that he had quitted his study in law after one year and decided to pursue his unreasonable dream instead. His father, however, said nothing; there was a disappointment in his eyes, but years later, he told Little Jiyong that he was proud of him… right before Little Jiyong finally published his first book.

“Little Jiyong wanted to spread happiness to other kids, with a hope that there would be at least one kid who would inherit his dream too… so, the cycle would never be broken. Until now, he still believes that every child deserves to dream and fantasize, journeying beyond the world they’re living in to create one where nothing is impossible.”

A soft touch on his face, and Jiyong suddenly notices the stream of tears rolling down his cheeks. Seungri is no longer laying his head on Jiyong’s lap as he cups the face of the man closer towards him in both of his hands, joining their forehead together, with his eyes closed.

Seungri’s soft breath touches his face, feeling so soothing and warm. Slowly, Jiyong notices a hole inside his chest, but it’s a comforting one… _strangely_ ; it feels just as if the hole is supposed to be there and not to be filled up with anything.

A realization comes next when Jiyong’s gaze is met by Seungri’s hazel eyes: this is the very first time he tells someone about what he’s been keeping for about a decade, and that someone listens to him attentively; he even never tells Seunghyun about this, though his best friend has never left him during his early years living as an author.

His fears and his worry, old and new… it feels like everything has been wiped out along with the tears. Acceptance is something he hardly earned when he was struggling, so he understands how priceless it is to have someone accepting him for the way he is, for what he’s been doing, and for everything he still wants to achieve.

“Hey,” the corner of Seungri’s cat-like mouth lifts, carving a small smile on his face. “You’re amazing, Jiyong. Do you know that?” Two arms are wrapping around Jiyong’s slender body, enveloping the black-haired man in a hug.

Resting his head on Seungri’s shoulder and nuzzling his nose on the crook of the milky white neck, Jiyong only murmurs unclear words. There’s no assuring word coming from the man who’s embracing him oh so firmly, but the voiceless words, brought along with the comforting savory scent, are more than enough for him.

“I’m happy to meet you, Jiyong. Really. Thank you… thank you for finding me first. Otherwise, I might have missed the opportunity to see you…”

Jiyong only nods his answer and surrenders himself in the comfort. The next thing he can fully comprehend is to see and feel Seungri’s warmth against his body, along with the quiet hums that lull him until the warm darkness claims him.

_I’m not alone…_ And Jiyong, indeed, is not.

 

*

 

Something glowing warmly is the first thing his vision captures when Jiyong slowly opens his eyes. He remains unmoved for a while, at least until he collects enough consciousness. There’s no blaring sound of his phone or alarm; the quietness is everything all his senses are experiencing.

Jiyong rolls his body, laying supine, and soon his stare is met by a dimmed light. There’s a pressure on the space next to him, and when he turns his head, he sees a silhouette illuminated by the similar warm glow he saw earlier. The figure is leaning his back against the headboard, stretching and crossing his legs, with a book in his hands.

“‘Ri…” Jiyong clears his throat upon noticing how dry his voice is.

The man lowers his hand and his eyes soon find Jiyong. “Jiyong? Oh, does the light distracts your sleep?”

“No… it just… I just woke up. It’s okay. What…” the black-haired man fixes the position of the pillow underneath his head, “…what time’s it?”

“Uhh… around 2:00, I think… Do you need something?”

Jiyong replies with a short ‘no’ while nestling his head on the pillow, shifting the position for a few times until he feels most comfortable. “Have you been awake all night?”

A wide grin emerges on Seungri’s face and the man soon joins Jiyong laying next to him on the bed. They lay sideways with Seungri’s back glued to Jiyong’s front, spooning. Jiyong quickly responds by snaking his arm across the other man’s chest while the other one smoothly slips into the space between Seungri’s head and bed. Seungri’s auburn hair feels ticklish on his face, but Jiyong doesn’t care. Rather, he buries his face in the softness of the strands.

“Been reading your books, Love. If you didn’t wake up, I might not stop reading at all.”

“What did you read? But you have to sleep… remember you still have works tomorrow…” Jiyong murmurs his word against Seungri’s neck, causing a giggle to escape from the man’s mouth.

“Tomorrow? It’s already past midnight, Jiyong… are you that sleepy?”

“Ah… whatever,” tightening the wrap around Seungri, Jiyong only snorts. “Let’s go to sleep now!”

“Oh, wait. You forgot something, Jiyong. _Quid pro quo_ , remember?”

“Can’t we do it later, Love?” A long yawn slips out and Jiyong snuggles himself closer to his boyfriend.

“Well… ask now, answer later. At least let me know what kind of question a man who wrote a cute story about misunderstood magical creatures wants to ask me.”

Jiyong, feeling his sleepiness slowly reclaims him, lets his thought wander between his consciousness and dream. But the words still come out from his mouth, even though he isn’t fully aware of what he’s saying anyway. It slips out as naturally as breathing, as if they are already on the tip of his tongue, waiting to be expressed in words.

“Why… me? Why did you choose me? Why did you… want me to love you… and want to love me too?”

His eyes are almost completely shut and Jiyong doesn’t react much even though there’s a movement coming from the very spot next to him—as long as it’s Seungri’s body that is next to him, everything else becomes way less important.

“Because, Jiyong,” Seungri’s breath blows on Jiyong’s lips, “right from the moment when you had Pepper in your hug and beamed so bright amidst the city lights, I already knew that you could be… the one. When you opened the door that evening with water dripping from the corner of your mouth, wearing pajama as you were sick, I secretly imagined how it was to live with you. And when you asked me out, I felt your sincerity and that meant a lot.”

The unexpected answer forcefully opens Jiyong’s eyes, and looking into Seungri’s soul through his bright hazel orbs is the very next thing that immediately brings him back to reality.

“More importantly… you never seem bothered by my clumsiness… you were there when I tripped myself, toppled things, stepped on Pepper’s poo, nearly poured water on your phone… But… the most important thing is… maybe it’s because you’re always being you. You’re so sincere, so kind… Looking at you, sometimes I wonder why people don’t easily recognize such warm-hearted man, regardless of your seemingly quiet, uncaring look.

“You are… different,” Seungri’s hand caresses the apple of Jiyong’s cheek softly. “You’re so different until I cannot keep myself from always thinking what kind of man you are actually.”

The words leave Jiyong completely in awe. And then suddenly he remembers one word Daesung told him a few days ago, about him being a romantic person… Even after living on earth for 27 years, he’s never had even a slight idea that there would be at least someone who perceives him as a person whose qualities are the ones mentioned by Seungri or Daesung.

_Am I… really that kind of person?_ He wonders. _Because all I’ve been having in mind is to live my life, to achieve my dreams…_ And love? Love is not a stranger to him, but nearly all his exes always said the same thing before they broke up: ‘You’re too deep in your own world until you don’t realize the reality around you. Will you ever stop dreaming and being foolish? Grow up, Jiyong. I can’t stand being with a man who’s still full of his childhood dreams.’

“I’ve been worrying that my clumsiness will tire you… will bore you… When you fetched me for our first date, I did pray to God that He’d let me act normally even only for a day. But then, for the rest of the day, I felt… free? Unlike my dates in the past, for the first time, I didn’t spend too much time feeling afraid that I’d do something silly. For the first time, I only wanted to enjoy the moment…”

“I don’t care about you being a klutz. That… never matters.” Jiyong blinks, and Seungri’s stare still looks the same. “What matters is you, Lee Seungri. It’s always been you. Tripping yourself, falling, and such… they aren’t really important. I love you, and that’s what’s important to me.”

Seungri’s lips part slightly, and the words that come out from the gap between them are as soft as a cat’s purr. “But… but what if I’m falling now?”

The hand caressing Jiyong’s cheek is soon captured in a gentle hold. “Then fall for me, Seungri,” Jiyong’s lips soon meet the fingers. “You don’t need to worry about getting hurt; I’ll catch you.”

Leaning his head closer to Seungri’s face, Jiyong is only one thumb away from kissing the other man. But he doesn’t want to rush the moment; he likes it the way it is right now.

Because his guts feeling is telling him that there is more than enough time for them to share everything in the future. And for now, sharing their personal space and secret is already a good start.

 

* * *

 

 

 


	14. Feeling

 

“Don’t stop this feeling.”  
Bigbang, _Feeling_

 

* * *

 

 

 _I almost forgot to tell you. Seunghyun & Daesung invited us to come to their house party this Friday. Are you going to come with me?_  
Sent to: Seungri, Lee (08:15 A.M.)

 

 _Of course I am! I’ll clear my schedule for Friday. Should I bring something?_  
From: Seungri, Lee (08:29 A.M.)

 

 _Not really, but be careful because Seunghyun has the worst case of sweet tooth. And what’s your plan for today?_  
Sent to: Seungri, Lee (09:01 A.M.)

 

 _Really? I’ll think of something to bring…_  
Baking, baking, and baking. Rescue me from the kitchen, please?  
From: Seungri, Lee (09:09 A.M.)

 

 _Fancy a lunch, Love?_  
Sent to: Seungri, Lee (09:14 A.M.)

 

 _Yes, please! And what about a dinner too? I’ll come to your place but it’ll be kind of late… at 8, maybe?_  
From: Seungri, Lee (09:22 A.M.)

 

 _Lovely! I’ll invade your kitchen around 11, OK?_  
Sent to: Seungri, Lee (09:31 A.M.)

 

 _And stay the night. I don’t accept a ‘no’.  
_ Sent to: Seungri, Lee (09:31 A.M.)

 

 _Yay, bedtime stories! <3_  
From: Seungri, Lee (09:32 A.M.)

 

*

 

His taxi stops right in front of the place he’s heading to, but Jiyong doesn’t immediately get out of the car even after handing folding stuff to the driver. Rather, the man takes a few moments to take a deep breath in as he glances at the black-painted door—the entrance to White Rabbit.

 _Well, there’s nothing wrong with visiting your boyfriend and taking him out for lunch, Kwon Jiyong_ , the little voice inside his head tells him. _It’s just that his employees happen to be a little… chatty_. But his only option is to enter the place because he has _promised_ that he’d come to Seungri’s cake shop this Wednesday and take the guy for lunch… after Seungri has done baking.

That means there’s a probability that he may end up having to wait for Seungri in the shop and not in the kitchen.

“Sir? I’m sorry, but—”

“Right. No, I’m sorry,” Jiyong cuts the driver and pulls the door handle, opening the door. “Thank you for taking me here.”

“You’re welcome, Sir,” the middle-aged man smiles. “Have a nice day!”

“Yeah… thanks,” the man murmurs his answers and gets out from the car. Once the door closes, the taxi leaves and Jiyong only stands in silent. People are passing him, their chatters are filling the open space up with words uttered in various tones and expressions.

It’s not difficult to see the inside of the shop, thanks to the tall windows forming the façade of White Rabbit. Even seen from outside, Jiyong can already feel how quiet and serene the cakery is inside. He cannot see who are behind the counter, but he’s damn sure the man named Kwanghee’s there—Seungri has told him if Kwanghee is the only full-time employee working there. As about the girl he saw the other day… well, he can find out about it once he’s already inside, right?

 _Come on, Jiyong; they’re people. It’s not like you’re going to tame two monsters to meet your boyfriend anyway,_ he tries to calm himself mentally. _They’ll only greet you… friendlily. They won’t bite._ Gulping, the man approaches the door while putting his left hand inside the pocket of his jeans. _Remember: Choi Seunghyun is worse, and you’ll meet him this Friday after he’s done finishing his project this week… meaning that it’ll get way worse than usual._

The brass door handle feels warm against his skin. The door pushes open and it doesn’t take long for Jiyong to feel the cool air welcoming him, along with a cheery voice, greeting, “Welcome to White Rabbit… OH, IT’S YOU!”

 _Yeah, it’s me…_ But all Jiyong does is forcing himself to form a wide smile on his face once his eyes meet Kwanghee’s and nodding his head. “Good after—”

“OH! IT’S YOU!” And now, it’s a girl who squeals loudly—her hair’s still blonde, and her heavy eye makeup seemingly looks the same. “What takes you so long to come again, huh? Are you seriously going to date Boss? Or do you really have no intention to approach him? Or—”

And a hand immediately lands on the girl’s full lips, muffling Chaerin’s voice once Kwanghee’s other hand is pressed against her nape tightly. But the guy’s smile doesn’t falter as he continues talking to Jiyong, “Hi, Jiyong. Wait, I can call you by your first name, right? You can call me Kwanghee, of course!”

“Ah… yes,” trying to shrug casually, only quiet words come out from Jiyong’s mouth. This time, both his hands are inside his pockets as the man’s fully aware of how flustered he is. “Well, is Seungri…”

“Boss is in the kitchen, Jiyong,” answers Kwanghee without releasing Chaerin from him, even though the girl starts slapping him to let go of her. “Just come inside; he’s told me that you’d come anyway. Oh, wait. You don’t bring something now? So it’s not a date?”

The relief from not having to wait with the duo does not last long. Feeling dumbfounded, Jiyong only blinks. “Uh…?” The man slightly tilts his head, not knowing what to say in response to that.

Kwanghee yelps in pain and the next thing happens is the guy screaming loudly as Chaerin pulls his ear with an annoyance clearly expressed on her face. Her lips frown, mumbling quiet threats while the other guy is cringing. Both of them are too busy torturing and getting tortured, so Jiyong takes the opportunity to escape from the duo, heading towards the ornate wood door he knows leading towards the kitchen.

The air brings the familiar buttery scent once the door opens, and amidst the quiet kitchen, it’s not difficult for Jiyong to spot where his boyfriend is. Seungri’s wearing clean white button-up shirt and brown chino pants with a black apron wraps around his body perfectly, standing alongside the kitchen island. A few cakes are sitting on the countertop and the baker is busy wrapping them with plastic.

“Seungri?” The voice coming from Jiyong’s mouth is only a little louder than a whisper, but the quietness surrounding them has amplified the volume.

It doesn’t take long for Seungri to find and greet him with a wide, warm smile carved on his face by the cat-like mouth. “Hey! Wait a little longer, okay? I’ll wrap these cakes with plastic first, then we’re good to go!”

As if the silence in the room takes control over him, Jiyong approaches the other man in the room quietly. He takes his hands out from the pockets, feeling how the warmth he feels inside his chest grows more intense with every step that brings him closer to Seungri. When Seungri averts his gaze to the cakes he’s still working on, Jiyong finds himself unable to get his eyes off of the glowing, blushing cheeks in front of him. The auburn-colored strands look brighter under the bright ceiling lighting, and Seungri’s thick, long lashes look like they are forming a curtain that hides the bright colored eyes.

Jiyong joins Seungri and seats himself on a stool alongside the island, and he can say how much he loves seeing how the other guy’s chubby fingers skillfully wrap each cake with a plastic sheet, covering the top, sides, and bottom tightly before putting it inside a zip-lock plastic bag.

“Hey, Seungri…”

“Hmm?”

“Whose turn is it now?”

A pair of hazel eyes meets Jiyong immediately as Seungri raises his head. “Turn to… what?”

Jiyong’s arm stretches and the tip of his forefinger touches the auburn-colored locks that cover Seungri’s forehead. He tucks them away from the face, only to no avail as they are too short to stay in place. “ _Quid pro quo_. Remember?”

“Oooohhh…” Seungri’s bright orbs are rounded in delight, “You’re getting into the game!”

The thumb brushes against Seungri’s eyebrows before Jiyong pinches the nose in adoration. “You’re not the only one who wants to get to know each other, okay?”

The baker only responses with a soft chuckle as he seals the last cake inside a zip-lock plastic bag. “Give me a kiss first and th—”

And the hand, resting on Seungri’s chin, already brings the face of the other man towards Jiyong. Tilting himself closer, Jiyong’s eyes capture the surprised look coming from the pair of hazel-colored orbs before him, but a split-second later there’s nothing but warmth expressed there before Seungri’s eyes are slowly closing.

Jiyong presses his lips on each eyelid revealed as Seungri shuts his eyes before capturing the pair of lips that line the every-smiling mouth, letting all his senses absorb the presence of the other man.

“Boss, I’ve told you not to make out in the kitchen, haven’t I?”

Seungri’s eyes open at once and the kiss breaks. Two pairs of eyes find their way to spot a man, whose face is popping out from the agape wooden door, shaking his head in a way that makes it clearer that he’s faking his concern.

“And guess who’s been preaching to keep the kitchen hygienic!” Kwanghee continues, still faking a frown on his face.

Even though Jiyong can feel the blush creeping to his heated cheeks, his chuckle joins Seungri’s small laugh anyway. Seungri lands a soft peck on Jiyong’s nose before gives Kwanghee a playful wink. “Don’t worry, Kwanghee. We’ll wait until the shop’s closed!”

 

*

 

Jiyong cannot hold himself from groaning and hissing, unleashing his annoyance. His phone is in his hand, showing a text sent by Daesung.

 

 _Changes of plan!_  
 _Can you tell the owner of the ranch that the reception will take place outdoor, and not inside the barn? We’ll set up a tent and let the trees give extra shade._  
 _Plus, find someone who can help with the makeup, please? My friend suddenly cancelled because she’ll go to a bigger wedding (yeah, IKR. I should send her a horse head)._  
 _Thank you so much! x_  
From: Daesung, Kang (1:06 P.M.)

 

“Hm? What’s wrong?” Seungri takes the cone from Jiyong’s other hand and starts to enjoy his gelato. “Don’t tell me you have to leave!”

“Uh… no. It’s just… a text from Daesung,” massaging his temple, the black-haired man puts the phone on the table. “Changes of plan for the wedding. Even worse, I’ll have to go back to the ranch once again this weekend because the reception will be outdoor too. And then I have to find a makeup artist… no, thanks. Take it all for you,” his head shakes when the other guy offers the gelato they initially bought to share.

Jiyong’s rejection is answered by a slurp as Seungi continues enjoying the green tea and Oreo gelato. “Isn’t the ranch pretty far from here?”

A heavy sigh is let out from Jiyong’s mouth as the man slouches on the chair. His eyes are gazing blankly at the passers-by seen through the large glass window adorned by the bright yellow valances and matching checkered curtains pulled away to leave the window uncovered. Seungri, sitting across the round bistro table, is completely out of his thought for a while. “Yeah…” Jiyong mumbles, “…and during weekend, the traffic can be really crazy because it’s warmer and families start to visit the ranch for a picnic…” _And now I’m hungry again… Roasting a couple sounds like a good idea for a second lunch, doesn’t it?_

“Picnic, huh?” Seungri’s still busy licking the dessert he suddenly wanted having after enjoying pizzas and pastas for lunch when they passed the gelato shop. “I’ll be free this weekend. What if I come with you?”

The remark earns Seungri Jiyong’s full attention as the man gives him a look. “Hm? Are you serious? But… your orders…”

Seungri’s words are coming out from the mouth hidden behind two scoops of gelato, “I’ve done baking all of them earlier and I have tomorrow to decorate them. There’ll be enough time. Don’t worry.”

“No singing job?” Jiyong asks and Seungri only blinks to answer; there’s no word, but the stare beaming from his bright eyes gives out enough for Jiyong to understand. “Don’t forget that you’re a wedding singer too, Love,” his hand reaches out, caressing the auburn-colored hair gently. “And weddings always take place during weekend.”

Seungri pouts his gelato-smeared lips, “Don’t you want me to come with you too?”

“As much as I want to,” resting his chin in his hand, Jiyong stretches the corners of his lips into forming a gummy smile, “you have work to do too.”

“But… wait… this weekend I’ll only sing on Saturday noon. Well, unless you don’t want us to go together, what about going to the ranch after I work?”

“Well… then it’ll be night already when we return… I don’t mind driving, because Seunghyun will let me drive his car, but the traffic…”

The other guy groans quietly, “You do _not_ want me to go with you.”

“Oooohh…” Seungri’s remark earns Jiyong’s snicker. With a smirk forming on his face, Jiyong rests his face in his hand. “Are you sulking right now?”

“No,” averting his gaze, Seungri continues eating his gelato, accidentally smearing the ice cream on his cheek as he turns his face away. “I’m not.”

Using his thumb, Jiyong wipes the green-colored cream from Seungri’s face and put it into his mouth. Noticing that his boyfriend has been eyeing him from the corner of his eye, the man replies the gaze while showing him his wide smile. It does not take long to notice the rosy-colored tint creeping on Seungri’s glowing cheek as the man quickly throws his stare away once again, and such sight never ceases to bring warmth inside Jiyong’s chest.

“Should we leave after you finish your gelato? Or can we go now?”

“Up to you,” the auburn-haired guy only mumbles his answer, taking a bite of the waffle cone. Once again, the man accidentally smudges the gelato but now the smear is closer to the corner of his lips.

Jiyong really cannot hold himself from letting the joy piling up in his chest to take a control over him so he laughs while, again and again, stretches his thumb to wipe the ice cream off of Seungri’s cheek. After sucking his thumb and tasting the subtle mint flavor, he raises his body. “Let’s leave now; I’ve had my share of gelato for today.”

Seungri’s milky white cheeks has turned beet red, but there’s a sheepish smile formed on the face.

And that one thing’s an enough reason for Jiyong to lean down, whispering, “The ranch. This Saturday. I’ll ask the owner if we can set up a camp and stay overnight. Yes or yes?”

When Jiyong feels something cool all over his lips and the taste of mint flavor makes its way to touch his tongue, Seungri’s lips pressed against his is the clear answer to the question.

 

*

 

On the other side of the kitchen, there is a door that leads to a room: Seungri’s office. Well, it can be said so, even though the white-painted room is more likely a rarely used dorm room. After all, sitting behind a desk is not what a baker does.

Seungri has convinced Jiyong to stay rather than leaving because both of them are free and too lazy to go to someplace else. And once they returned to White Rabbit, a young tall guy was already working inside the kitchen—Seungri introduced him to Jiyong, telling him that boy’s name was Junhoe. Kwanghee managed to have a brief talk with them, telling Junhoe to keep his ears sharp so he, as per the thin man has said, “could prevent these two from making out while the operating hour’s still up.”

There’s a dark wooden desk on one corner and a sofa bed in navy blue. One side of the wall is full of tall open shelves displaying books (it’s not surprising to know that they’re cooking books), knick-knacks, and framed photographs. The last one is what’s more interesting to Jiyong as the man takes a closer look to each printed photo. In his hand, he’s holding a framed photograph of Seungri, wearing his graduation cap and academic dress, and three other people— _They have to be his family_ , Jiyong smiles—surrounding him.

Seungri, his hair was bleached to light blonde back then, showed his toothy smile and Jiyong suddenly wonders what if they met during their college years. _Was he already active as a singer back then? And how was his university life? He had to have so many friends… and who knows if he had a boyfriend when this photo was taken?_

He knows it’s normal for people to feel the jealousy growing, but the thought of Seungri being in a relationship in the past doesn’t trigger the same response in Jiyong. Rather, he’s filled with curiosity, wondering how Seungri’s life was when he was still a college boy. _He even graduated with honor! I bet he was one of the popular college guys back then_.

“You know what?” A pair of arms are wrapping around Jiyong’s body as Seungri’s chest is pressed against the other man’s back. “You’re free to ask about… everything,” he murmurs his words, burying his face in the crook of Jiyong’s neck.

“Is it my turn now? Who was the last one to ask yesterday?”

Seungri plants a kiss on Jiyong’s cheek and rests his chin on the shoulder. “Me. I asked if you wanted me to join you in the shower… but you seriously locked the door from inside. How mean!”

“That’s because—”

“And don’t you know that showering together can help conserve water? Don’t you have any concern about our Mother Nature?”

Jiyong feels the squeeze around his body gets tighter and the man laughs. “Okay, okay… I’ll let you join me next time…” Slightly turning his face sideway, Jiyong soon feels a slight brush against his lips.

“Great! So, _quid pro quo_. What do you want to ask? You’ve been asking me only trivial things so far, Jiyong. My favorite food, my favorite movie, favorite color, things I do during weekend… Why?”

“Hmm… trivial, eh?”

“Yep,” Seungri nods. “I thought you’d ask me about why I became a singer and a baker instead of being a banker or financial manager. Why? Do you think it’s not interesting? Should I be a pirate first to make it sound more exciting?”

Jiyong returns the framed photograph to the shelf, swiftly whirling around and cupping Seungri’s face in his hand. Squeezing the cheeks in adulation, he answers, “But those aren’t insignificant for me, you know?” A pair of rounded eyes is what Jiyong gets from Seungri, and he continues, “I’ve been living for 27 years but you came into my life only recently. I need to catch up on whatever I’ve missed.”

Seungri snorts as his mouth forms a smile. “You’re so cheesy, Jiyong...”

“That’s why I decided to become an author, not a lawyer.”

“Thank God,” releasing himself from Jiyong, Seungri walks towards the wooden desk and seats himself on its polished surface with his legs dangling freely. “I really have no idea what would happen if you didn’t continue pursuinh your dream… Kwon Jiyong, a lawyer? You might even have no time to handle Mr. Choi’s wedding… and we might have never met at all.”

A smile is formed on Jiyong’s face and the eyes do not cease to keep staring at Seungri as he approaches the man. There’s no word exchanged between them, though the stare they share says enough about whatever feeling they are having towards each other; admiration, desire, love…

“But I,” Jiyong positions himself, standing between Seungri’s open legs, and rests his hands on the other man’s sides, “believe that it’s… written. And there’s no point to fight it if the universe conspires to lead me to you, whoever I might become…”

Shifting himself closer to Jiyong, Seungri cups the face of the man in his hand and takes it closer. “Can you imagine there’s an alternate universe wherein we don’t see each other?”

The air Jiyong breathes in still takes the same scent Seungri always exudes. “I can’t,” the tip of his nose traces the contours of Seungri’s face and he feels how warm his breath is as he whispers his words. “If there really are alternate universes out there, I’ll make sure I’ll always be the one who finds you first.”

Seungri whimpers upon feeling the soft breath on his ear and brushes his thumb lightly over Jiyong’s lower lip. “Have I told you how cheesy you are?” A purr coming from the lips pressed on Seungri’s neck is the only answer he gets. “But I like it. I like how you woo me.”

“ _Quid pro quo_ ,” Jiyong murmurs while his hands eventually slide underneath Seungri’s white shirt, moving them up and down the sides of the other body. He’s fully aware of how Seungri’s firm muscles tense like they always do whenever he touches the man… and he loves knowing how his touch makes the other man feel.

One split second before Seungri’s nips at Jiyong’s neck is enough for the man to answers, “Ask away.”

On Seungri’s ear, Jiyong whispers quietly, “Have you ever had someone wooing you… between your thighs?”

Seungri’s lips quickly capture Jiyong’s, taking them wholly. With their body glued together, their pelvis brushed against each other, it’s not difficult for Jiyong to notice the growing bulge. But Seungri’s kissing him hungrily, and he doesn’t care about stained jeans anymore once the heat shared between them gets too intense to ignore.

It’s Seungri who abruptly breaks the kiss. Panting, he groans, “And the answer’s… no. No, unless you do it… now. Fuck, Jiyong. Now… do it. Now.” And then he leans his face forward, taking Jiyong’s lips greedily once again. Jiyong only surrenders, letting Seungri take control over him as he’s too distracted by his desire.

Two hands are guiding Jiyong down there and none of them has enough consciousness to notice three knocks on the door.

(And Junhoe, with an invoice in his hand, decides that he can tell his boss about changes in the order Seungri’s working on later… much, much later.)

 

* * *

 

 

 


	15. Lucky Ones

 

“You and me are the lucky ones.”  
Lana Del Rey, _Lucky Ones_

 

* * *

 

 

Pinch. “Your first love?”

Seungri lifts his gaze, biting his lower lip as he digs through his memory. “I think… it’s the boy who used to live next door when I was 10. He was so cute and nice. I often visited him because he had a weak body, so he couldn’t play outdoor as often. One day, his condition worsened and I could only cry seeing him so helpless in the hospital. He was hospitalized for a month before my mom told me that he and his family had to move out of town. She… didn’t tell me why, and I spent nearly the whole month standing in front of his house after school ended, wanting to see him waving from his bedroom.”

Pinch. “Your first boyfriend?”

He squirms; Jiyong’s five o’clock shadow slightly brushes against his shoulder blade as the man lands a gentle kiss. “When I was… in high school. My second year. A classmate. It didn’t last longer than three months, though. He was completely mad at me for accidentally throwing his bag into the swimming pool with his phone inside. But I didn’t regret it, knowing that he had been blackmailing my best friend back then, Sora. By throwing his phone into the pool, I helped erase the materials that guy used to blackmail her.”

Pinch. “Your first kiss?”

“Last week, when a guy named Kwon Jiyong got out from the elevator then ran to me. Then we had sex and he’s my boyfriend now. And can my boyfriend stop pinching my thigh, please?”

Jiyong, his lips are still pressed on Seungri’s bare shoulder, only laughs. His hand soon moves from the leg he’s been pinching gently, tangled with his, and lands on Seungri’s firm chest. “What time is it now?”

While snuggling himself even closer underneath Jiyong’s embrace, Seungri glances at the table clock perching on the nightstand. “It’s… around 7.”

“And we haven’t slept at all,” he giggles.

“And whose fault is that?”

“Well… You should’ve let me beat you at poker at least once…”

“You should sleep now, Love. You have an appointment at 11, right? Plus, we’ve been invited to come over for dinner tonight. Now, I’ll prepare the breakfast.” Seungri tries to raise his body, only to no avail; Jiyong has barred him, keeping him in place. The man tries to release himself from his boyfriend for a few next times, but Jiyong—his eyes are closed—still doesn’t let him go. “Baby…” Adding a commanding tone in his voice, Seungri glances his boyfriend over his naked shoulder.

But all Jiyong does is only flashing his wide, gummy smile without bothering himself to open his eyes. “No…” his murmur already sounds sleepy. “You’re more comfortable than my bed. You should stay.”

“Ooohh…” Seungri coos. “Little Jiyong’s so sleepy now, eh? Does he want me to sing him a lullaby?” Turning himself over, Seungri cups the sleepy face in his hand and joins their forehead together.

Nodding his answer, Jiyong’s smile still lingers on his face. “Sing me—”

The buzz distracts them, loud enough to break the mood immediately. Jiyong only groans with his eyes remain closed, covering his ears with his hands. Seungri, taking an advantage from Jiyong’s change of position, gets up at once. “Who’ll come here this early?”

Jiyong, already turning himself into a ball, grunts, “Not Seunghyun; he would’ve barged into the apartment without a word.”

The buzz rings again, and this time whoever outside Jiyong’s apartment is pressing the button longer. “I’ll open the door; you go sleeping, okay?” Seungri hurriedly stands up and snatches a pair of jeans laying on the floor. Wobbling, he tries to walk while putting on the pants only to land himself on the carpeted floor.

“It’s okay, I’m fine!” he assures his sleepy boyfriend and then runs to the bathroom. _Damn, I’ll use a towel, then._ His eyes scan the room—he’s still unfamiliar with Jiyong’s place—and quickly spots a shelf full of rolled-up clean towels. He quickly snatches one and unrolls it while storming out the bathroom and chamber, heading towards the front door while wrapping his lower body. Ensuring the door chain is set in place, he opens the door.

Daesung’s standing there, looking neat with his suit and tie—the man surely will leave for work after he finishes whatever business he’s having with Jiyong. “Mr. Lee?”

“Mr. Kang?”

Seungri notices that Daesung’s staring at him from top to toe and back to top again, making him pull his body in hope that he won’t reveal too much. He knows he shouldn’t feel awkward like this, because chances are both Seunghyun and Daesung already know that he and Jiyong are now an item. _But still… I still haven’t been introduced to them properly aside from when they came as my customer_ , he tries to smile.

“I’m sorry… I must have disturbed… you,” Daesung replies his smile, turning his small eyes even smaller, and Seungri can easily notices the sincerity. “I won’t be long, don’t worry. Here,” a USB stick is in the hand the man raises, “for Jiyong. The details of new arrangement for wedding reception are here… well, kind of. At least that’s what Seunghyun told me last night. I forgot to e-mail it to him and Seunghyun spent the night at his office so…”

“Uhh…” Reaching his hand out awkwardly, Seungri accepts the device. “I’ll give it to him. He’s… still sleeping now.”

“And one more thing. Mind to call me Daesung? Seunghyun will also want to be addressed by his first name too; I can assure you of that.”

“Ah… right. Then just call me Seungri.”

“Alright, Seungri. I’ll see both of you this evening, okay? Seunghyun has been missing Jiyong so much and he’ll be delighted to see you together!” The man nods and bids his farewell.

Seungri replies the nod and cranes his head, watching Daesung’s back until it disappears from his sight. When he’s about to close the door, Seungri feels a frim hold pulls him backwards and his back soon bumps something—the surprised feeling overwhelms him, preventing him from understanding what has just happened. When he feels something ticklish against his neck, he slightly turns his head sideways and finds a head resting there.

“Who’s that?”

“It’s Daesung. He dropped by to give you this,” he shows the drowsy Jiyong the USB stick. “And why are you here? You should go sleeping now!”

“I’ve told you; you should stay on the bed too.”

Caressing the black locks, Seungri lets a smile emerge on his face. “Alright, alright. Come, you need sleep because you have to work this noon and we have Daesung and Seunghyun’s invitation to attend.”

But Jiyong doesn’t let the man go from his hug so Seungri practically needs to drag a sleepy man on his back before throws the man to the bed with him. Laying on the bed sideways, Jiyong glues his head to Seungri’s chest while the arms still not letting go of him. Seungri wraps his boyfriend’s head, pushing it closer towards his beating chest, and quietly sings a song to lull Jiyong to sleep.

 

_We’ll lay here for years or for hours_

_Your hand in my hand, so still and discreet_

_So long, we’d become the flowers_

_We’d feed well the land and worry the sheep_

_And they’d find us in a week,_

_when the cattle show fear_

_After the insects have made their claim,_

_after the foxes have known our taste_

_I’ll be home with you, I’ll be home with you 1_

 

*

 

Already dressed up, Jiyong walks out from the bedroom hastily. “I’ll be home before 4. Promise.”

Turning off the hand mixer, Seungri yells, “Don’t forget the USB stick!”

The other man flashes the device in his hand, grinning. “Got it.” The smile doesn’t disappear as Jiyong quickly walks into the open kitchen, heading towards the spot Seungri’s at. “I’ll leave now. Don’t burn the kitchen, okay?”

Giggling, Seungri dabs the tip of Jiyong’s nose. “Of course I won’t, Love.” He leans his face closer, licking the tad of cake batter he accidentally left when he touched the nose. “Take care. And please don’t be too harsh to the man from the decorating service just because the changes for the wedding have pissed you off, okay?”

Jiyong gives him a kiss on his mouth and leaves shortly after that, and Seungri returns his attention to the carrot cake he’s making. Jiyong has told him about Seunghyun’s sweet tooth and asked him not to bring something really sweet—“Even during his normal state, Seunghyun’s already like a spoiled little brat. Imagine how wild he can be if he’s having a sugar rush!”

He turns the mixer once again and adds eggs, vanilla, grated carrot, and flour mixture he has prepared before. His phone, perching on the counter, rings when he’s still mixing. The name the screen displays reads ‘Kwanghee, Hwang’. Seungri answers the call and turns on the speaker.

“Boss!”

“Hey. Have you read my message?”

“Yep. I’ll leave the shop 30 minutes later, I think. Hanbin’s supposed to be in the morning shift but he’ll be late because of some school’s stuff. It’s not noon yet and the shop’s literally packed. And what are you making, by the way?”

“Carrot cake. Jiyong asked me not to make something too sweet.”

Kwanghee doesn’t say anything, but his shrieking laugh rings too clearly.

 _Luckily I don’t put the phone on my ear_. “What?” Seungri feels his brows frowning. “I can already imagine how you look right now, Hwang Kwanghee, and I can say that I really want to punch your face so bad.”

“Aww you’re so savage, Boss!” The guy speaking from the other end of phone call still chuckles. “Nothing, it’s just… I can’t believe how your relationship with Jiyong progresses by leaps and bounds! Gosh, things really work differently in 2016, don’t they?”

“Tsk,” the baker shakes his head but he feels grateful anyway that his heated chooks and the smile forming on his face are unseen by his friend. “It’s not as fast as you assume, Kwanghee. We still have so many things to do and learn about each other.”

“And I hope you aren’t only busy studying each other’s body, okay? OOOOHHH FINALLY! HEY, HANBIN, MOVE YOUR ASS OVER HERE AND START WORKING! YOUR FANGIRLS ARE AWAITING! Okay, Hanbin’s here so I’ll see you sooner. Bye, Boss!”

“Hey! Wait—” But Kwanghee has ended the call, leaving Seungri flabbergasted upon hearing the guy’s accusation. “Watch out, Kwanghee. See what I’ll do to your cheap mouth later!” the man hisses.

His hand reaches out for a loaf pan and the man pours the batter into it before transferring the pan into the preheated oven. Even after all these years, he still feels the satisfaction from placing a baking tray in an oven and the excitement from wondering how the cake will taste once it’s baked. Fully aware of how the corners of his lips are arched, carving a smile on his face, Seungri hums a song quietly as he takes out a skillet from the cabinet and pours olive oil into it.

Only 15 minutes later, the auburn-haired man already has a bowl full of chicken salad in his hand—his lunch. The cake will not be done baked until about 30 minutes later so he lounges lazily on the sofa. His eyes are scanning the room as he’s having a mouthful of sliced chicken breast, romain lettuce, and beans, trying to find something to do while waiting.

His attention lands on the stack of books in an open shelf next to the TV stand. Swallowing the food, Seungri approaches the unit. On the bottom of the stack is a hardcover book in red—with everything looks almost black next to it, it’s not difficult for the book to stand out. Seungri’s curiosity grows even stronger as he doesn’t spot anything written on the spine of the book.

Carefully, he pulls the book away from the stack and still finds nothing on the cover, apparently made from fabric. Seungri opens it, and the handwritten words he reads quickly fill him up with nothing but excitement:

 

_“Misty and Her Purple Chalk”_

_Handwritten version (because I want to)_

_by: Kwon Jiyong_

_~~(Seunghyun was here yo)~~ _

 

Plopping himself down to the sofa, the man sits cross-legged with the book open on his lap and a bowl of salad back in his hand. Seungri, already claims himself as Jiyong’s number 1 fan, has read the book—it’s Jiyong’s first published book, after all. But seeing Jiyong’s handwriting on the page, there’s nothing but joy and even pride overwhelming his chest.

Unlike the printed version, it has no colorful illustration made by Taehyun, but Seungri soon decides that this one is the best version ever. In every letter written to form a word, Seungri can see nothing but sincerity, passion, and love… and it makes the book he’s reading right now truly precious and personal. It looks like he’s swimming into Jiyong’s mind and feels the feelings the man was experiencing when he arranged each word to form a sentence, and later a paragraph… then a complete story.

There’s a part of Jiyong that lives in the journal perching on his lap, and touching it almost feels like touching the man himself… but in a far more personal way.

 

> _Misty couldn’t stop herself from crying. “But… but I love my family!”_
> 
> _The Frog croaked. “She also loves you, but you said you wanted to change your family. Doesn’t that mean you don’t really love them?”_
> 
> _“No!” Misty wiped the tears off her cheek with the back of her hand, but the tears kept rolling like a waterfall. “I didn’t mean that. I… I just… I don’t want this to be my family. I want my family back!”_
> 
> _One leap was enough for the Frog to land on Misty’s shoulder…_
> 
>  

Suddenly, his phone rings; it’s the timer he activated before he started baking. Carefully, he moves the book to the coffee table, holding it as if he’s having something fragile in his hand that can easily break if he doesn’t treat it gently.

Once he ensures the carrot cake is perfectly baked inside using a toothpick, he takes out the loaf pan and places it on the counter, letting it cool. Seungri soon prepares the ingredients he needs to make cheese frosting.

The bell buzzes when he’s about to turn on the hand mixer—it has to be Kwanghee. The buzz doesn’t stop and Seungri screams, “Wait a minute! I’ll be there!”

And there the thin guy is, standing with his wide, toothy grin that forms deep creases on the corner of his eyes. “Ey, Boss!”

“Now you can stop pushing the button, Kwanghee,” Seungri squints his eyes. “Where’s the cake box?”

“Inside here,” showing a paper bag in his hand, Kwanghee’s wide grin doesn’t falter. “Where’s Jiyong?”

“Working. He’s meeting someone from the decorating service and florist. Why?”

“And you’re watching over his place? Is that why you don’t come to the shop today? Has you moved into his place? Oh my God, isn’t that too soon, Boss?!?? It’s not like I disagree, but you know that you shouldn’t rush things, right? And—”

Hissing, Seungri reaches his hand out, asking for the paper bag. “Your blabber will never end well. You better hand me the cake box now.”

“But Boss…”

“Now.”

“Tsk. You’re not fun to tease, Boss. By the way, about the cakes Mr. Lim’s going to pick up this evening… Junhoe has told you about the changes, hasn’t he?”

Seungri’s hand quickly snatch the paper bag Kwanghee’s handing to him. “Yes. Why? He wanted to change the frosting to ganache, right? I’ve finished his order yesterday and the cakes are inside the fridge now.”

“Yep. Correct. My Boss really is smart! I thought Junhoe forgot to tell you because…”

“Oh, shut up, Kwanghee. The smile on your face doesn’t hint anything good.”

“Hmm?” Rounding his eyes, the expression drawn on Kwanghee’s face is enough to tell Jiyong that his friend’s faking his oblivious look. “But I only wanted to say it’s okay for you to get busy with your boyfriend in your room as long as you don’t mess up with the orders, Boss. But please,” cupping his mouth, the guy whispers, “even though we couldn’t hear it from the shop, our poor little Junhoe needed to take a break from the kitchen for a moment.”

Seungri can feel the corner of his lips twitches. Hastily closing the door, he grunts, “Good bye, Kwanghee. I’ll see you this Monday!” Kwanghee’s loud laugh still manages to reach his ear before the door completely closes, doubling his annoyance and triggering his hunger once again.

But his work isn’t finished yet; luckily, cheese frosting is really easy and quick to make. Once the cake’s completely cool and it’s topped with cheese frosting, he puts it inside the cake box and stores his carrot cake in the fridge.

It doesn’t take long for Seungri to find himself laying on the sofa, reading Jiyong’s handwriting once again. And he doesn’t really mind about Kwanghee’s tease once again as his mind is busy imagining the world where a girl named Misty lives and finds a magic purple chalk that helps her create a new world she’s always been dreaming of only to regret it later.

The shiver runs down Seungri’s spine once he realizes that as long as the story is read by someone, Jiyong will still always live even years and decades later. And suddenly, he wants to be immortalized in the similar manner… until people can feel his pulse in each page they read about him.

 

*

 

Pinch.

Seungri only groans his complaint, still shutting his eyes stubbornly.

Pinch.

Still too sleepy to open his eyes, the man only flails his hand lazily and swats something he doesn’t really care what it is weakly.

Pinch.

“Whaaaaaat? Stop squeezing my nose…” Turning his body sideways, Seungri rolls himself into a ball. For a moment later, nothing disrupts him from his slumber. No more annoying pinch on his nose… only warm, comforting breath blowing on his face. “J’yong…?” he murmurs, still not intending to open his eyes.

But there’s no answer. Only quiet that follows, even though Seungri still feels the warm breath blowing against his face.

“Jiyong?” Seungri continues mumbling. “You’re home?”

Pinch.

“Hmmmmhhh… stop pinching my… my nose…” Yawning his last word, Seungri’s eyes are finally half-open. Smiling drowsily, his sight soon captures and recognizes the owner of a face with a smile carved on it. “What time’s it now?”

“Around 4. Or maybe 5. I don’t know,” Jiyong’s whisper feels truly comforting, nearly lulling Seungri back to sleep once again.

“Have you eaten? How was the meeting?”

Tilting his head, Jiyong levels his stare with Seungri’s sleepy eyes. “Yes. And it was okay… for me. Not okay for the grooms-to-be because they must pay more for the decoration.”

Seungri replies the smile, letting the pleasing sensation spread throughout his body when the tip of Jiyong’s fingers brushes against his forehead lightly as his boyfriend tousles his fringe without any of them breaking the stare.

“Wake up,” Jiyong breaks the silence while patting his head gently. “We have to get ready now.”

“Pinch me,” the words blurt out, “Once again. Please?”

“Hmm? Why?”

“Because…” Seungri’s forefinger touches the tip of Jiyong’s nose, brushing it over the skin lightly, “…because I’m so happy right now… I’m so happy and I’m afraid that actually I’m still sleeping…”

Jiyong’s lip captures the finger, kissing it gently. “Wake up, Love. Because your reality’s now better than your dream.”

 

* * *

 

 

1 Hozier (feat. Karen Cowley), _In a Week_ [[x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oho-q53uiv4)]

 

 


	16. Adventure of a Lifetime

 

“Turn your magic on.”  
Coldplay, _Adventure of a Lifetime_

 

* * *

 

 

Walking hands in hands feels truly nice. _No, scratch that_ , Seungri smiles while savoring the scenery of his surroundings—people are walking in a hurry for a night out or probably rushing to get home as soon as possible for dinner, sound of engines humming comes from the passing cars and buses, songs played by stores and restaurants alike, and bright light beamed by street lamps as the sky turns dark. _Nice is an understatement…_ His arm tightens the hug, wrapped around the other one that belongs to another man walking next to him.

The man, his black hair looks slick and is pulled away from his face, smiles his small smile that always manages to make Seungri’s heart skip a bit—as cheesy as it sounds, it does happen and Seungri doesn’t feel embarrassed to admit it at all. “Hmm? What?”

But he only replies by shaking his head lightly. “Nothing,” from the perimeter of his sight, he captures the reflection of him and Jiyong as they walk past a famous luxury clothing store. Both of them are dressed up in button down and jeans, all in gray and black. However, the matching outfit isn’t the only reason why the auburn-haired man feels elated.

The reflection on the all-glass façade doesn’t look as clear as one a mirror may show, but even seen only in a glance, they look _perfect_ together.

And although he’ll the only one who agrees with it, he doesn’t really care… what matters is how he feels right here and right now, and for Seungri, things are already perfect the way they are.

 

*

 

“We’re not late, are we?” There’s a slight worry as Seungri peeks at his phone, but his boyfriend only chuckles.

“If we’re late, Seunghyun would’ve called the fire brigade and police to find and fetch us,” the answer comes as Jiyong presses the bell with his thumb.

“Uh? You don’t keep his apartment’s key?”

“No need to. I don’t frequent his place since he moved in with Daesung.”

“I see…” Seungri keeps his phone back in his pocket, fidgeting as he shifts the center of his stance from his ankles to toes continuously.

“Hey,” the hand quickly pulls Seungri’s out from the pocket; the fingers find their way to tangle with his. “No need to be nervous. Once you meet them, you’ll hardly suppress your intention to break someone’s neck,” Jiyong flashes his gummy grin as his hold tries to give him an assurance.

Seungri only chuckles. “You’re always exaggerating things when it comes to Seunghyun, Love…” His face leans in for a kiss, planted gently on the corner of Jiyong’s grin.

“Are you coming in for dinner?” A husky voice disrupts them at once, but the tone sounds so warm. “Or do you prefer to stay outside and eat each other out for meal instead?”

“Hey, Daesung,” the smile on Jiyong’s face widens as his hand’s still holding Seungri firmly. “Where’s the big kid?”

Their host, wearing black long-sleeved T-shirt, moves aside and gestures them to enter the place. “Still busy in the kitchen. Still sulking because I confiscated his wine. Just go straight to the dining room and please make yourself at home, Seungri.”

Seungri hands the cake box to Daesung, whose eyes turn smaller upon the wide smile emerging on his face as he accepts the gift, and follows Jiyong, who leads by pulling him by his hand. A brief tour from entry to the dining room is filled with an amazement of how lively the couple’s place is. Seungri’s eyes quickly scan the wall gallery in the living room, filled with framed photographs of Seunghyun and Daesung. The interior is dominated by neutral colors, but the space feels warm thanks to the choice of ambient lighting illuminating the room. He also captures bold, vibrant color splashing from the paintings hanging on the wall—they are most likely the reason why there is track lighting installed on the ceiling.

Unlike Jiyong’s apartment, where the kitchen opens to the dining and living room, Seunghyun and Daesung’s kitchen isn’t configured in the same layout. Instead, the kitchen is located in a different room connected by a double sliding door, while the dining and living rooms share the same space. The dining set is placed alongside the large glass door that brings the outdoor view into the room.

Daesung enters the kitchen, announcing their arrival, and only a moment later, the other host appears with a tray in his hand when Seungri and Jiyong have seated themselves on the chair next to each other. “Kwon Jiyong!” Seunghyun screams in his baritone voice, and Seungri can clearly see how elated the man is as his thin lips stretch, forming a wide smile that deepens the dimples on his cheeks. “I’ve been missing you!”

“And I don’t,” Jiyong doesn’t even look at his best friend while grunting his answer. “How do you even manage to cook when you’ve been so busy with your work?”

“He insisted, Jiyong,” the answer comes from Daesung, who helps his fiancé arrange the foods on the table—the appetizer, creamy stuffed mushroom. “He said we needed to serve homemade foods to celebrate—”

“To celebrate love!” The tall man practically pushes the tray to Daesung and quickly positions himself right behind Jiyong and Seungri, resting his hands on each of their shoulders. “I really had no idea that things would progress so smoothly. Isn’t this year the perfect time to fall in love? Dae told me that he met Seungri in your place this morning, Ji! Wait, I can call you Seungri, right? Dae also said that… well, Seungri was most likely half naked when he dropped the USB stick to your place, sooooo you really have scored, heh? And did both of you do it in the bathroom? Remember that I’ve left you a good luck charm last week!”

Seungri can feel the blush creeping to his cheeks, but he joins the laughter upon seeing Seunghyun holding Jiyong’s head and moving it mercilessly, causing the latter to cuss and flail his hands to push the other hands away from him. His friendship with Jinwoo doesn’t often involve such physical contact—or most likely physical _attack_ , as per what he’s witnessing right now—since they prefer teasing each other or throwing sarcastic remarks, so it looks really amusing for him to see how his boyfriend and Seunghyun are bickering.

Jiyong, one head shorter than Seunghyun, finally manages to raise his body and most likely would really break Seunghyun’s neck if only Daesung doesn’t drag Seunghyun, still laughing in pure amusement, away. “We have a special guest here, Baby. Stop embarrassing yourself!”

“But I don’t feel embarrassed at all?” Rounding his eyes, Seunghyun pouts his lower lip while lowering himself, sitting across Seungri. “And see, Dae Baby? Our dinner will be even more perfect with wine!”

“Uh-oh. I’ve told you. No wine tonight. No alcoholic beverage. Only coke, and that’s all.” The copper-haired guy stubbornly shakes his head as his arms are forming a large X.

Jiyong, on the other hand, has seated himself once again and groans while leaning his back on the chair’s backrest and staring at the ceiling. “Since when did Choi Seunghyun have ‘embarrassment’ in his personal dictionary?”

Seungri, still not saying anything for the past few minutes, can only suppressed the urge to laugh by pressing his lips tightly, biting his lower lip with all his might. His eyes are looking at his grunting boyfriend, sulky Seunghyun, and Daesung who’s still scolding his fiancé one by one, until a huff of laughter finally escapes from his mouth.

Though he quickly manages to regain his composure, his quiet laugh still attracts Daesung’s attention anyway, who smiles once again and apologizes quickly. The second their eyes meet, Seungri cannot hold himself any longer as he unleashes the joy piling up inside his chest. He swears he can laugh to no end, especially when he captures the sight of Jiyong staring at him in the same way he always sees whenever their eyes are locked.

He’s happy. He’s in love. Is there anything better? Seungri knows better what—or _who­_ —the answer is.

 

*

 

Seungri feels as if his belly is protruding for Seunghyun and Daesung literally have shoved everything down into his stomach. The dinner started with mild appetizer and continued with a main course—due to Seunghyun’s packed week, the man couldn’t afford enough time to go with the five-course dinner and Seungri secretly felt grateful for that.

It’s because the soon-to-be grooms insisted on feeding the main course—pan-seared steak served with spinach, grapes, and almonds—to his mouth in large serving size. As someone who prefer skipping dinner unless he pulls an all-nighter to work in the kitchen during the busy times, what he got from the couple simply is too much.

But it’s not like he had any reason to feel less happy than he’s supposed to be.

The dinner was fun and Seungri finally could speak more with Daesung and Seunghyun paying him more attention. Their talks were lively and mostly about their daily lives; the couple asked him questions about his double jobs, daily activities, and such. Seunghyun, clearly missing his best friend, really couldn’t stop himself from teasing Jiyong—his remarks were often the reason why Seungri kept feeling heat on his cheeks and neck, even though their squabbling was also the one behind his laugh and smile while enjoying the greatly cooked homemade meal. It was clear enough that Seungri really shouldn’t feel nervous for meeting Seunghyun and Daesung.

And now, both Seungri and Jiyong are sitting on the sofa as Daesung and Seunghyun are busy cleaning up the table. They just finished their dessert—strawberries with yogurt and pistachios, because the last time Seunghyun came to his shop, asking him to be the wedding singer for his upcoming wedding, the man managed to dig things about Seungri from Kwanghee.

“Seunghyun’s a great cook,” Seungri’s still patting his full tummy. “Even though he kept saying the meals he’s cooked were only the easiest and quickest ones to prepare, still… they were awesome! Is cooking, like, his hobby?”

Jiyong brings him closer as the man hugs Seungri’s shoulder and then caresses his hair. “No… he used to hate cooking because he thought it was tiring. But things changed when we were accepted to enter the university; that guy was in panic when he finally realized that going to university meant leaving the town and his house… meaning he couldn’t drag his mom along to cook with him, and Seunghyun really hated eating instant foods. I even had no idea why such thought never came across his mind from the beginning. Then he started to learn cooking; he practically spent the whole summer in the kitchen and I had to be the food tester. Involuntarily, of course. But luckily, his first cooking wasn’t as bad as I had thought.”

Resting his chin on Jiyong’s shoulder blade, Seungri slightly turns his face towards Jiyong, “Doesn’t that mean he’s got the talent?”

The other man only shrugs. “Maybe. I didn’t really care as long as he also cooked for me, though. At least I could spare enough money every month… and look at yourself, Seungri.”

“Hmm?” The said man only blinks. “Why?” But a moment later, he feels Jiyong’s thumb brushes lightly against his skin, near the corner of his lip. “Eh? What’s there?”

Jiyong licks the tip of his thumb he used to wipe something off Seungri’s face, answering, “It’s nothing. Just yogurt, on your face.”

“Wait…” the auburn-haired man quickly pulls himself away from his boyfriend, sitting with his back straight. “Didn’t you do it too when we had gelato a few days ago?” But Jiyong only gives him an indifferent look as an answer. “You should’ve told me if it accidentally smeared the ice cream on my face! Geez, that was embarrassing. This is embarrassing. Why didn’t you tell me so I could wipe it off myself?”

And again, Jiyong’s blank stare is what Seungri receives. “Uhhh… because that wasn’t really important at all?”

Reaching out his hand towards Jiyong’s face, still looking uncaring about what has just happened, Seungri squishes the cheek in kilig, pouting his lower lip and whining, “That was important, Love. I’m a 26-year old man who smears ice cream on his face! Don’t you think there’s something wrong with that?”

A chuckle escapes from the mouth, forming a wide grin that makes a pair of Jiyong’s dark chocolatey eyes seem disappeared. “No… nothing’s wrong with that, Seungri. Nothing’s wrong with you.”

 _Duh,_ Seungri quickly releases Jiyong’s cheek from his hand and turns his body away from his boyfriend. _Again. This man really will be the death of me if my heart keeps skipping a beat!_

“Seungri?”

The called man immediately raises his stare and glances towards the direction from where the voice came from; Daesung, who called his name, is standing right in front of the agape kitchen door. “Yes, Daesung?”

“Mind to help Seunghyun in the kitchen? I think he wants you to share the carrot cake recipe from the way he ate nearly quarter the cake.”

“BABY!” Seungri can clearly hear the other guy’s voice, screaming from the kitchen, as he approaches the kitchen. “DON’T SPEAK LIE!”

“Oh, right. It wasn’t quarter. SORRY, BABY! I FORGOT THAT IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE HALF OF IT!”

Seungri enters the kitchen—“Just come in. And close the door, please? I hate seeing open door; it looks untidy,” Daesung grins at him and walks towards Jiyong. “Don’t worry, I’ll be a good host so your boyfriend’s in a good hand!”—and finds Seunghyun sitting on the bar stool along the island.

The kitchen is pretty large and designed in an L-shape with a kitchen island installed right at the center of the room. The cabinets are clad in dark brown with beige paint color covering the walls. Black granite is the choice of countertops, gleaming beautifully underneath the lighting provided by a sputnik brass lamp.

Seungri thought that he’d find Jiyong’s best friend busy feeding himself with a spoonful of cake, so the sight of Seunghyun looking so calm with a smile on his face is kind of surprising him. “Seungri,” the heavy voice coming out from the thin lips is quiet, almost like a whisper— _Almost unlike Seunghyun, if the loud, kid-like Seunghyun is the only side he has,_ Seungri thinks to himself. “Come and sit here,” his hand points the only empty seat near him.

Sliding the door closed, Seungri approaches the man and sits on the stool. There’s a sense of importance from the way Seunghyun’s behaving right here and right now, and he won’t lie that it doesn’t make him feel something like uneasiness.

A moment of silence follows, but the quiet is a loud one… if there really is such a thing called ‘loud silence’. Seungri doesn’t break his stare from Seunghyun, who keeps looking at him with his gleaming dark eyes; observing him in a way that makes Seungri feel like whatever he’s been having in his mind, his last retreat, is being pulled out and left bare for the other man to see.

“Thank you,” Seunghyun clears his throat, “thank you for the cake. It really tastes awesome! And I cannot wait to taste the one you’ll make for the wedding later.” A smile is formed on the face, adorning the well-shaped jawline with deep dimples.

“You’re welcome,” Seungri returns the smile. “Well, you can taste it a month before the day. I’ll make the mini sample for you; it’s part of the contract.”

“Ah, right. I almost forgot about that… Well, then I can hardly wait until I finally find out how our wedding cake will taste and look.”

“And we’re not going to talk about your wedding cake, Seunghyun… Or aren’t we?”

“Of course no,” the groom-to-be shifts on his seating. “We’re going to talk about—”

“Jiyong. Yeah, I know…”

“Oh…” The pair of thick eyebrows are raised. “I was about to say that we’d talk about a grumpy man who never understands how much I love him all this time so instead of showering me with affection, he keeps treating me as if I’m a nuisance… wait, that description makes it sound like I have an unrequited love towards him. But yes, your guess is correct; we’ll talk about Jiyong… and you.”

Seungri, chuckling upon hearing Seunghyun’s answer, soon ends the laughter once Seunghyun finishes his sentence. “So… it’s about us; Jiyong and me.”

So there they are, inside a quiet kitchen, with Seunghyun spilling everything out from his heart and Seungri listening to each word attentively. There’s no the usual mentally-toddler Seunghyun who screams and whines and pouts and laughs carelessly; sitting before Seungri is a man who has nothing but sincerity and his whole heart to offer to anyone he considers important, including his best friend whom he’s been sticking with for the whole decade… a best friend he cares so much regardless of all the tease and his attempts to irritate Jiyong.

And Seungri knows that the same thing once happened to Daesung too, but it was Jiyong the man had to be listening to. He doesn’t need anyone to confirm this; he simply _knows_.

(Mainly because Seunghyun and Jiyong are too stubborn and dumb to express their love and affection like most people do.)

 

*

 

The moment he turns his eyes away from the sparkling street lights seen through the window as the taxi runs, Seungri has made a decision. “We can go straight to your place.”

“Eh?” Jiyong blinks in confusion. “But you have a schedule tomorrow, don’t you? Plus, you need to pack your stuffs too for the camping.”

Seungri lightly shakes his head. “Let me stay in your place tonight. Please?” He gives his boyfriend his smile, full of hope.

“Well…”

“I’ll leave your place right after breakfast. Plus, Jinwoo will come to give me the suit to wear tomorrow and the tent we’ll borrow so I have to see him first. Okay?” But Jiyong doesn’t say anything; his stare, looking at Seungri, shows nothing but hesitation. “Alright. I’ll text Jinwoo,” Seungri fishes his phone out of his pocket, his thumb swipes and taps for several times, “to pick me up tomorrow,” the thumb taps the screen fast, “exactly at 9:00 A.M. And…. Sent.”

“Well… I just don’t want you to come late to the wedding…”

“Don’t worry about me,” Seungri’s hand quickly grabs Jiyong’s, holding it tightly. “There will be enough time. Okay?”

Seungri can see how Jiyong’s mouth stretches even only slightly as the man smiles. “Alright, alright… and you didn’t lie when you said you only talked about the carrot cake recipe earlier with Seunghyun, right?”

“Of course no!” The auburn-haired man elbows his boyfriend gently. “Why should I lie to you anyway?”

“Seunghyun was _too quiet_. That’s enough reason to feel suspicious. Quiet Seunghyun means something smelly.”

“Hmmm…” Seungri rolls his eyes, trying to avert Jiyong’s stare as inconspicuous as possible, “…Seunghyun really was interested in the cake so he was being really serious when I explained the recipe…” Nothing comes out from Jiyong after Seungri completed his answer—he thinks that his lie isn’t too convincing. From the corner of his eyes, Seungri sees how Jiyong’s mouth already opens, ready to blurt any word out.

“Well… whatever, as long as both of you weren’t planning something suspicious or even having an affair.”

Now, Seungri really hits his boyfriend. “JIYONG!”

But Jiyong only grins widely, stretching his mouth in a way that always makes Seungri feel nothing but adoration with a great urge to squish his boyfriend surging. Rubbing the thigh where Seungri’s hand landed earlier for a hit, the writer laughs. “Sorry, sorry… I only wanted to tease you. I’m sorry…”

“Tsk. Whatever,” the baker-slash-singer pouts.

“I’ll let you spend the night in my place with only one condition, though…”

Seungri only raises his eyebrows, not saying any single word.

The request is whispered softly as Jiyong pushes himself closer towards him, his breath feels warm against Seungri’s lips. “Sing me a lullaby?”

“Even better, Love. I’ll sing you like a choir.” And the small gap between them soon disappears once Seungri presses his lips against Jiyong’s sweet ones that still taste like strawberries.

 

* * *

 

 

 


	17. Aviation

 

“The colorama in your eyes, it takes me on a moonlight drive.”  
The Last Shadow Puppets, _Aviation_

 

* * *

 

 

_“I'm not going to tell you to take care of Ji.”_

 

 

 _I'll pick you up at 2?_  
From: Jiyong, Kwon (10:11 A.M.)

 

 _Or at 1? Should we have lunch together first?_  
From: Jiyong, Kwon (10:12 A.M.)

 

“Seungri, I need to go now. Hurry!”

Without averting his eyes from the phone, the said man moves his thumb to type in a reply and merely shouts his answer, “I'll be there in a minute!”

 

 _I've told you to fetch me at 3 from my place. Rest now; you'll be driving. You need to sleep, remember?_  
To: Jiyong, Kwon (10:13 A.M.)

 

“Sixty! Fifty nine! Fifty eight...”

“Tsk,” the singer-slash-baker hisses, hurriedly walking towards the bedroom door and opening it. “Alright, alright. I'm here, Jinwoo. Now where's the suit I can wear today? And the tent?”

The blonde, sitting on the sofa with one of his legs crossed, throws his head backwards. “There,” his finger points at the chairs placed across him where two suits are neatly placed, one for each chair. “Choose now so I can return to the shop. And the tent's there, near the door so you won't forget it.”

The phone in his hand vibrates and Seungri immediately checks it to find a new message—a reply from his boyfriend. “I'll wear the white one,” he casually answers while writing another reply.

 

 _Can't sleep. Now I blame you, especially because I cannot use the kitchen until the cleaning ladies come..._  
From: Jiyong, Kwon (10:15 A.M.)

 

 _Guilty to charge, Sir! Sorry not sorry :P_  
But I've cleaned it, so the counter should be clean enough for you to cook!  
To: Jiyong, Kwon (10:15 A.M.)

 

 _Well, you're right. But I can't. I just can't. Not when I keep having images in my head when I look at my kitchen island..._  
From: Jiyong, Kwon (10:16 A.M.)

 

 _My boyfriend is a pervert :P_  
To: Jiyong, Kwon (10:16 A.M.)

 

“So I just picked you up from Jiyong's place only an hour before and you're already sexting with him?”

Startled by the voice, Seungri quickly raises his gaze and finds a lump of bright blonde hair before his eyes. The other guy apparently has approached him and his lowered head clearly tells him that his best friend's reading the texts on the screen. “Talk about the violation of privacy...” Hissing, his fingers flick the forehead, causing the blonde yelping in surprise.

“Preach it to the NSA,” Jinwoo gives him a wide grin before turning around, giving the auburn-haired man a wave. “So you choose the white suite? Should I return and bring another one for Jiyong? Then let you keep them until your wedding day?”

“Just go away already,” the singer hisses, but his friend only laughs until his figure disappears behind the closed door.

Seungri buries his upper incisors into his lower lip, still annoyed by Jinwoo's tease. He fishes the phone out from his pocket, glancing at the digital clock that reads 10:21 A.M. and voicelessly reminds him things he has to finish before going to the wedding hall. “Shit, I have to get ready now!”

Soon, the man has stripped himself naked and quickly runs to his bathroom. Once he's inside and showering himself, his phone, forgotten on the carpeted bedroom floor, doesn't stop vibrating. The screen's on—there's an incoming call and the caller's name displayed reads “Jiyong, Kwon”.

 

*

 

_“You may have heard it for many times. If you haven't, then let me tell you: Kwon Jiyong is a stubborn, a fool. Unlike his exterior, he's a complete softie inside.”_

 

 

The doorbell buzzes when Seungri, with nothing but his white button-up and boxers to wear, is  packing his stuffs for the night camp. “Geez,” the man finally gives up and carelessly stuffs the folded blanket into his backpack after he decides that he cannot decide if he should bring a blanket, so he brings it anyway.

A few moments later, he's running towards the door, but the man stops halfway as he remembers that he's missing a pair of pants to wear. “Damn, where are my pants... WAIT A MOMENT!” he screams at the closed door when the buzz rings longer. “Argh, forget the pants,” hissing, he  resumes his walking and peeks through the peephole while running his fingers through his damp hair. “Let's see who the h—”

Jiyong and his small smile are the sight Seungri's seeing through the small hole.

“Jiyong?” Seungri slips his head in the gap between the door and the wall. “Why'are you—”

“Seungri!” The black-haired man's smile quickly stretches into a gummy grin. “Why didn't you answer my call? Oh, did you shower earlier?”

“Uhh... wait. Come inside first...” Taking a few steps backwards, Seungri widens the gap to let his boyfriend enter his place. “Anything wrong, Love?” He raises his eyebrows, giving Jiyong a questioning look.

But Jiyong only shakes his head while closing the door. “I have nothing to do. I'm not sleepy enough to sleep and Seunghyun dropped his car to my place so I decided to come here. Well... I think I can drive you to the hall. How does that sound? I guess it can save you the time so you won't need to wait for the taxi.”

“That's great! But let me finish packing my stuffs first, okay?” The singer turns around, heading back to his bedroom. “I should be there before 1:00 P.M. so it's better to finish it soon.” But when he's only halfway towards the room, a firm hug from the back has stopped him first. Two arms wrap around his body and Jiyong—because who else?—easily whirls him around, taking advantage from Seungri's surprised state.

“Before 1:00 P.M., huh?” A small mischievous smile emerges on the face, and the tone of his voice automatically ignites nothing but sparks of excitement inside Seungri. “Forget about packing; we'll be there only for one night, so a tent only will always do.”

Seungri can't help but smile, following whatever game his lover is playing. Flinging his arms around Jiyong's neck, he speaks in a quiet voice, “If you don't want me to finish packing... _Jiyong_ ,” the name is whispered right on the man's ear, “then what should I do?”

The other man, whose slender body Seungri knows hides nothing but lean muscles, doesn't find it difficult to carry him as he walks. And Seungri, feeling the tinges of pleasure already spread throughout his body, is not willing to ruin the fun and simply surrenders.

“Too bad you've showered,” Jiyong's dark eyes are gleaming.

Seungri giggles, leaning his forehead against Jiyong's. “Well, I don't mind if I have to shower again, though...”

“Good,” the other man's breath feels warm against Seungri's lips. “Then we should hurry or we'll be running out of time.”

But the counter feels cool against Seungri's bare thighs once Jiyong seats him on the surface. “God! Jiyong, not in my—” His complaint, however, quickly turns into a moan once another pair of lips seals his, and the thought of having to clean another kitchen only within a few hours is no longer important since Jiyong still feels good as Seungri's body can always remember.

 

*

 

_“At some times... or maybe most of the times... he may seem just as if he doesn't care, but he always does. Worse, he tends to overthink; I can assure you of that.”_

 

 

Two men are dashing across the busy hotel lobby, heading towards the lift—the red light tells them the lift is going up from basement. Much to their luck, the lift opens only when they are a few steps away. Soon, Seungri and Jiyong stuff themselves between people—the latter presses a button that will take them to the second floor.

“You're not late, are you?” Jiyong wraps his arm around Seungri's waist, pulling his body closer. There's the worry in his tone, also reflected on his eyes when he glances at the singer.

“I think no...” Seungri fixes the front of the white suite he's wearing. “It was quarter to one right before we left the car. Oh, we're here.” Quickly, both of them step out from the lift and soon are welcomed by a woman's voice.

“Seungri! What took you so long?”

“Bom! I'm sorry. The traffic—”

“Forget it. You should get prepared now,” the woman gestures them to follow him—when her eyes notice Jiyong, her gaze lingers for a moment longer. “And who's he? You'll be doing a duet?”

“He's Jiyong... my boyfriend.”

Three of them arrive in a room—only the two men enter it while Bom stands outside, her hand is holding the door panel open. “Get ready quickly and just because I leave you alone in this room, it doesn't mean you can make out, okay?”

“Bom—”

The woman beams, creating a pair of crescents on her face as her eyes curved. “And I'm Bom, the wedding planner. I often hire your boyfriend so chances are we'll often meet in the future. Well... nice to see you, Jiyong!”

“Ah, yes...” Jiyong nods politely. “Nice to... see you too.”

“I'll be back and bring you guys lunch!” And she disappears once door closes with a quiet thud.

Jiyong's figure is reflected on the mirror Seungri's staring at, and he only snickers quietly seeing how uncomfortable his boyfriend is even though Bom has gone. _He looks really cute when looking awkward in front of a stranger like that!_

The other man catches his stare, giving him a look. “What?”

Seungri shakes his head while gulping the mineral water. “No. Nothing. Just sit down and relax. I'll get myself prepared for work, okay? Fifteen minutes, tops, and we'll leave.”

Quietly, Jiyong throws himself to the nearest sofa. “What songs you'll be singing?”

“Fortunately, not the ones people often want me to sing today. It's... a good change, you know? I'm getting tired of singing the same songs every weekend.”

“Sing it for me? Well, you need to warm up, right?” The guy flashes his signature smile innocently...

...the one that always weakens Seungri no matter how many times he's been seeing it. He never knows if the other man always flashes the smile intentionally or not, or if Jiyong smiles that gummy smile only for him or for anyone close to him. Seungri may need to know what the answer is... _but I think I can wait_ , he replies the smile and turns around to face his boyfriend.

“But be careful, Love. You may fall in love with me even deeper.”

“I'm sorry to say this, but it seems like my concern now's how to make sure that the bride or the groom won't mistake you as their groom, Love.”

Seungri chuckles without breaking his stare, and his boyfriend looks genuinely amused. But three knocks on the door soon reminds him that he doesn't have much time spared for preparation, so he puts all his might to stop his laughing. Clearing his throat, he starts to sing.

 

_Tell me, tell me that you want me,_

_and I'll be yours completely for better or for worse_

_I know we'll have our disagreements, be fighting for no reason_

_I wouldn't change it for the world_

_'Cause I knew the first day I met you,_

_I was never gonna let you, let you slip away_

_And I still remember feeling nervous,_

_trying to find the words to get you here today_

_You make my heart feel like it's summer when the rain is pouring down_

_You make my whole world feel so right when it's wrong_

_That's how I know that you are the one,_

_that's why I know you are the one... 1_

 

The door opens and Bom calls Seungri right when the chorus ends, but none of the men says anything. Rather, Jiyong only says, “Now I really worry that they'll think you're their groom. Should I get prepared for a drama?” and beams the same smile Seungri knows he'll never get tired of seeing.

 

*

 

_“I've tried my best to be a good friend for him, but still... there will always be one thing or two he may not feel comfortable to share with me, no matter how close we are and how long we've been friends.”_

 

 

“I think you should wait in the car; I won't be long. I'll change my clothes, and bring my stuffs and the tent, then we're good to go,” Seungri unbuckles the seat belt and opens the door. Jiyong answers him with a nod.

It doesn't take long for the singer-slash-baker to get into the lift, and only in a few moments, he has reached his floor. Each step he makes is the wide one as Seungri doesn't intend to make Jiyong wait for too long.

Once he's inside his place, Seungri grabs the garment bag and takes off the white suite he's still wearing. Carefully, he hangs the jacket inside the bag and zips it up—luckily, the pants and shirt he's wearing are his own, so he can simply throw them to the laundry basket.

Before he walks out from his apartment—now he's wearing the cargo shorts and cotton raglan t-shirt, along with a pair of sandals—he grins in satisfaction upon seeing how quick the cleaning service finished their job in his kitchen. And in less than five minutes, he has already seated himself inside Seunghyun's Q5 with Jiyong still sitting on the driver seat. The digital clock displayed by the screen installed on the dash reads 2:22 P.M.

“Ready?” The black-haired man starts the engine.

Seungri nods. “Yup! Let's go!”

“I hope we'll be there before 5...”

“We will, my dear. We will...” While humming a song, Seungri plugs in a USB cable that connects to his phone. “A trip's never a trip without a playlist!” Soon, the intro plays and with a wide grin on his face, Seungri's anticipating Jiyong's response.

“This song...” A frown is formed on Jiyong's forehead as the man tries to glance at the screen, but Seungri pushes his face away by giggling. “Seungri, don't tell me...”

And the next few hours, Seungri discloses one of his biggest secrets, letting Kwon Jiyong know that he is dating probably the only grown-up man in the world who listens to all soundtracks from Disney's animation films _._

_*_

_“I trust you, Seungri. I believe that you'll be able to deal with him better than I do. No, it's not like I want to burden you. But... but it's important to understand him.”_

 

 

The drive to the ranch was really fun. Jiyong did have some fun singing _Can You Feel the Love Tonight_ and _A Whole New World_ , while Seungri made _Let It Go_ sound better and did a great cover for both _Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo_ and _Once Upon a Dream_. And not to forget, both did a duet for _Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious_ , turning it into 'super-California-hippo-cauliflower-is-delicious'.

Just like what Jiyong has expected, both of them reached the ranch before the evening falls, right when the families visiting the place for a picnic started to go home. The traffic heading there was crowded, but it was still tolerable anyway. They only made two brief stops to the convenience store because first, Seungri was hungry and second, Seungri was hungry.

The owner of the property is an old man with petite but fit frame named Nam Yeonghwan. He welcomes them warmly, giving Jiyong a fatherly pat on his back and wrapping Seungri's hand firmly in a handshake. “So there will only be two of you who'll be camping here, eh? I'm sorry but I cannot allow for a fire pit, but since it's warmer now, you may not need it. But I can borrow you camping lanterns. I'll bring you foods for today's dinner and tomorrow's breakfast too.”

Both of them are grateful to accept such kind offerings, even though they have to do it rather hesitantly—Mr. Nam apparently is a man of generosity, which gets more obvious as the man offers them to join him and his family for dinner. The couple refuses the offer at first, mainly because they don't want to disturb the family time. But the old man is also a persistent one, telling them that his “family time” is simply a dinner time he spends with his only son, so Jiyong and Seungri eventually agrees to join.

Seungri is waving back at a little girl, who's running to her parents, when an arm snakes around his waist, pulling him closer towards another man—Jiyong. The owner of the ranch is still talking with someone in his office and leaves the couple on the portico of his ranch house. The front yard garden is as green as the rest of the landscape, but with pops of color from blooming flowers and concrete paver connecting the front door and the road. Small bushes are lining the outdoor walkway neatly.

“You look so happy now,” Jiyong's lips, forming a small smile, land softly on his right cheek. “Doesn't mean you never look happy, though. But this time...” the tip of the nose nuzzles Seungri's soft skin, making the auburn-haired man giggles, “...you look _especially_ happy.”

The little girl waves for a last time before her mother closes the van's door, giving Seungri a polite nod with a smile on her face. The man replies with a slight bow—the best attempt he can make with Jiyong attached to him so closely—and returns the smile. “Maybe because we finally can spend our time together someplace else... somewhere that is _not_ my place, _not_ your place, and _not_ a restaurant near our places.”

Jiyong's breath feels so comfortable against Seungri's skin as the man murmurs his words, saying, “We're the best couple, aren't we? Hardly going somewhere for a date...” Chuckling, Jiyong buries his face even deeper in the hollow of Seungri's shoulder, partly hidden by the neckline of the T-shirt the man's wearing.

The tip of Jiyong's nose and the man's warm breath feel so ticklish against Seungri's skin, and his giggle eventually turns him into a small fit of laughter. “Best of the best, indeed.”

“Do you want to join us, talking about wedding reception thingy? Or do you prefer to be left alone?”

“Hmmm...” The singer tousles the lump of black locks gently, “I wonder if I can help cook—”

“My, my... that sounds like a great idea!”

Startled, Jiyong immediately raises his head and gets his forehead bumped against Seungri's jaw. Together, the two men groan in both pain and surprise while diverting their eyes to a small old man, whose presence shouldn't be that surprising—they're in his house anyway.

“Do you like cooking, Seungri?” The wrinkles hanging on the corners of his eyes deepen as Mr. Nam smiles. “My son will be really happy if you help him. Plus, it's good for him to have someone to talk to. That boy's too silent; I never stop wondering why. So... Jiyong, can we go straight to the business now?”

A few minutes later, Seungri finds himself in the kitchen with a guy who's no longer a stranger to him: a blonde is already working inside with a knife, chopping vegetables on the counter, and his bright-colored locks are parted perfectly fifty-fifty in the middle. “Taehyun?”

Nothing but a brief glance Seungri registers as an answer, followed by a quiet grunt, “Oh. You. Here, do whatever you can.”

And that's how he spends the rest of the evening cooking with the quiet Taehyun, occasionally looking at the silhouette of Jiyong seen through the kitchen window. It's not like he has anything to complain about, though.

 

*

 

_“He's so deep in love with you; even a blind man can see that you're the source of his happiness.”_

 

 

The sigh, coming out from Seungri's mouth, is a long and heavy one. Meanwhile, the other guy only lets out the empty air from his nostrils. When Seungri glances at Jiyong, his boyfriend only gives him a warm smile—something the man doesn't stop doing for a while.

The sight, however, puckers his lips and deepens the crinkles formed on his glabella as his eyebrows meet in the middle.

Everything is _perfect_ ; Seungri is fully aware of that, so there should be no reason for him to flash such discontentment. _Almost perfect, Lee Seungri!_ The little voice in his head corrects him, and the man hugs his knees even tighter, pressing them against his chest. _Now look what you've done to this supposed-to-be-the most perfect date ever! The dinner was great, and both Mr. Nam and Taehyun were being so kind to us. But your carelessness... Ugh..._

The breeze brings the sound of the wind, blowing on them—Mr. Nam was right; it was not as cold as they thought before, though it's true that it's getting humid once the sun goes down. Seungri can feel how his strands are tousled by the invisible hands, and he's completely sure his hair has turned into a mess... or _almost_. But that isn't something he's worrying about right now when two of them are sitting side by side, trying to get themselves comfortable with the old willow tree standing only a few meters behind them.

It's not like the starry night sky is not something worth savoring anyway. Rather, the sky is clear and the seemingly tar-like darkness expanding there looks truly captivating...

If only Seungri was in the right mood... and if only Seungri didn't forget to bring the tent Jinwoo placed near the door with him when he left his apartment after changing his clothes.

Even worse, Jiyong hasn't said anything since Seungri came all red-faced to tell him that a bag where the tent was supposed to be stored inside was somehow nowhere to be found inside the crossover. Rather, the author merely turned into a fit of laughter while messing his auburn locks gently, full of endearment.

And the only words that came from his mouth spoke, “Good thing you decided to bring your blanket with you, Love.”

Too embarrassed with what had happened, Seungri could only raised his gaze a bit. But the brief  moment was enough for him to capture the  golden-colored sparks flickering inside Jiyong's dark eyes.

 

 

“ _The spark has been there the first time he saw you, and it has grown brighter and warmer each day when he saw you once again... and even more when both of you are finally together._ ”

 

 

“But we... _you_ can get sick, Jiyong. It's no longer cold outside, but...”

“But we can hug each other to keep ourselves warm, Seungri.” The calmness is still present in Jiyong's voice; there's no sign of disappointment or irritation, even the slightest.

Seungri's mouth opens, ready to blurt more words out to convince his boyfriend that they should accept Mr. Nam's offer to stay in one of the rooms inside the house. However, he never manages doing it once a force pushes him backwards, leaving him with nothing to feel but stunned. A split-second later, Jiyong's fresh scent and the dark night sky expanding before his eyes are the only things he can comprehend... not to mention, the warm, comforting hug wrapping him tightly.

“Look at our surroundings, Seungri...” The slender man nudges his nose on Seungri's cheek. “If we stay inside the tent, we will miss this sight, won't we?”

Jiyong's words are as soft and captivating as ever, and the way the man treats him so kindly and warmly quickly frees Seungri's from his guilt and embarrassment, sweeping them only to let the joy coursing into him. Half of his face is buried in the comfort of Jiyong's hug, but he manages to capture the sight of dark eyes he has learnt to adore so much.

It's bright yellow sparks he's seeing, showering him like the warm sunlight. This time, he gives in to the force of the invisible string to pull the corners of his lips upwards.

 

 

“ _So... please, pretty please... if right here, right now, you cannot see yourself in the future with him, I kindly ask you to stay away. Don't let Ji get hurt, because it'll be the very last thing I want to see._ ”

 

 

The quiet lingers, blanketing the couple in a voiceless comfort—the only sound to hear is a song sung by the nocturnal animals who finally wake up from their rest. Laying on the ground with only Seungri's blanket underneath their bodies, Jiyong still envelops his boyfriend—occasionally kissing him whenever he wants to. The other man is completely at ease as each silent second passes, indulging himself in the comfort of his lover's heat and the view of starry sky.

There's a song playing inside Seungri's head; an untitled one, but it keeps creating a vision of splashes of red and white, and a faceless man who's smiling beautifully at him. That mysterious man stretches his hand—a glowing hand with wispy light dancing around it—as if asking Seungri to take it.

Seungri blinks, and the next second, Jiyong's face is all he sees.

This very second, the man in his vision finally has a face.

 

 

“ _Love him._ ”

 

 

“Hello, Gorgeous,” whispers Seungri. The rosy tint spreading on Jiyong's face the very next moment that follows is obvious to see from his distance, and Seungri giggles upon seeing his blushing boyfriend. He tangles his legs in Jiyong's, shifting himself closer while snaking his arm across the slender body lying next to him. The palm finds its place to rest on the small of Jiyong's back, slipped under his boyfriend's T-shirt and caressing the soft skin gently.

 _This feels right_ , he smiles at them.

“Hello, Beautiful,” Jiyong replies in a hushed whisper and his stare turns brighter. “I have a story to tell. Do you want to listen?”

“No _quid pro quo_?”

“I owe you this one.”

A sigh, now full of adulation and relief, escapes from Seungri's nostrils as Jiyong's fingers running across his hair. “Which one?”

“The typical story where the main protagonist thought that he'd have an ordinary day, only to find out that it was not in the end.”

“I'm all ears.” His head finds the perfect spot on the hollow of Jiyong's shoulder where he can breathe in the subtle fresh scent of citrus Jiyong always exudes—a scent he's been so familiar with. “Tell me.”

“Well... you know how every story always starts out: Once upon a day, there was a man who didn't stop thinking such a waste of money a wedding was. Thousands of dollars were spent only for one day, which wouldn't last longer than several hours anyway. He once told himself that if he'd ever get married in the future, he'd make it a simple one. There would be no extravagant reception... there wouldn't be a reception at all, in fact. He'd get married in court and go home right away. Well, there might be a small celebration but it would be shared only with his small circle: his family and his closest friends.

“One day, the man was being dragged out from his comfortable bachelor pad by his colleagues to attend a wedding. He didn't intent to attend the ceremony because he wasn't even close to the groom and the man really was such an awkward person whenever he was around people he didn't know... and we all knew that chances were he'd meet more than enough strangers to dub him as the most awkward person of the year. Well, long story short, his friends somehow managed to convince him to come with them, telling him that it'd be the last time.”

“But Jiyong...” shifting his body, Seungri curls into a ball and rests his head against Jiyong's chest, “a wedding is one of the most important moments in everyone's life. It makes sense if people want to make it as memorable as possible. Well, you know... spending the money to make it worth to remember for a lifetime...”

“For me... for _that man_ , what always matter was who he was with? That's all... I guess.”

“ _That_ man surely is the most romantic person ever...” Seungri purrs, tightening his hug around Jiyong. “I really envy _whoever_ he'd end up being with; imagine all the cheesy lines and dates they'd be having, like spending the night together under the starry sky...” He can feel Jiyong's body shaking in amusement and joins in the laughter. “So... what happened to him? Did he see something on the wedding that changed his day?”

“The wedding was... okay? The bride was so beautiful; she was petite and looked so radiant. The man always thought that people looked the most beautiful when they were happy, but she... was beyond perfect, he had to admit. The groom was gorgeous too; he had a pair of smiling eyes and the man swore there was a chance the wedding needed to be delayed for the eyes would disappear and people needed to help find them.”

Seungri chuckles; he doesn't need to raise his eyes to find a wide grin on his boyfriend's face. “He was such a meanie, eh?”

Jiyong's soft laughter vibrates against the lump of Seungri's auburn-colored locks, pressing his lips gently against the crown of Seungri's head before the man continues, “The couple looked even beyond overjoyed once they were standing face to face in front of the officiant. And when they exchanged the vow... when those two words finally came out from their lips... when they shared a kiss once they were dubbed as husband and wife... 'Well, _this_ is exactly what I simply want to indulge in! All the littlest things to share together, the smile only we know what the actual meaning is, the stare we exchange... just everything,' he told himself.

“'That's all,' he thought to himself, assuming that once the ceremony finally ended, he could finally have a chance to sneak out of the venue, grab something to eat, and go home right away. But, we all knew that men could only make proposes and God was the only one to decide on what would actually happen. And that was what happened to... _him_ , when the doors suddenly were slammed open and another man made a dramatic entrance.”

If Seungri was a puppy, he swears his ears would've perked up and the tip would twitch in anticipation. “Jiyong, don't tell me...” Raising his head, the man soon finds himself, again and again, wrapped by the comfort and fresh scent of Jiyong's body.

“The plans he already had in mind suddenly no longer seemed significant once he saw _him_. But it wasn't only the sight of the other man that had left him awed. The voice... he swore that was the most beautiful one he had ever listened to. From the way he greeted people warmly as he entered the wedding hall, how he laughed brightly and earnestly... Everything he showed was true and sincere, and our protagonist slowly found himself getting deep and deeper in admiration, falling in so quickly only in a few moments.”

Seungri can hear almost nothing but the beating heart of the black-haired man who's still hugging him tightly, reverberating through the chest, clad by a plain black T-shirt.

“He thought whatever he was witnessing were already enough to make him fall into a swoon... but again, that day seemed to be the one where everything and everyone were trying to prove him wrong. Once the other man reached the wedding altar and the piano played, that was the very second when his brain absorbed the sight of a man, and each flash of memory rooted, refusing to leave his mind ever since.

“He... _I_ thought it would be only a fling, an ephemeral moment, or a mere admiration... Never once in my life before had I dared to expect to find him... to find _you_ one more time. So I kept and kept yapping about you to Seunghyun, because that was the only way to convince me that... that whatever I was seeing six months ago was real and my memories weren't playing tricks on me.”

“But it doesn't, Jiyong. Never,” Seungri's thumb brushes the apple of Jiyong's cheek softly. Using only a little force pressed against Jiyong's shoulder, he pins his boyfriend under him, trapping the man between the cushioned ground on his back and his body atop. The fingers run upwards, tousling the black strands spreading across the forehead. His eyes, however, don't cease looking into the pair of dark-colored orbs.

But it's not a plain darkness he's seeing inside the eyes, for he already figures out how many colors he can discover there... quite a few to do for a lifetime.

The wind blows and the same citrus scent is the one he inhales.

“Jiyong,” Seungri sighs, but the tranquil wrapping around him doesn't let the voice vanish too soon, “those were real. _I_ am real. _We_ are real. And this... _this_ moment is real.”

An arch formed by Jiyong's mouth emerges on his face, and the colors beamed by his eyes turn even warmer than ever. “I know...” his words are no louder than Seungri's hushed murmur. “Your reality isn't the only one that's better than a dream. Neither is mine.”

A giggle escapes from Seungri's mouth when the other guy nips the bridge of his nose. “And you must have been wanting me so much... well, to see me once again, at least. Remember your talk about how the universe is conspiring to lead you to me?” Jiyong's mouth opens; a quick peck on the parted lips soon seals the mouth, keeping Jiyong's protest only for the man himself. “No, I won't stop reminding you of that. Yes, those are so cheesy. No, I always love it when you're giving me sweet nothings and wooing me. And yes, Paulo Coelho's _The Alchemist_ really is an amazing reading.”

Jiyong blinks; his lips are still parted and his silence still lingers. The black-colored strands are seemingly dancing when the wind, once again, blows, finding their way to spread across his forehead. His quietness, however, doesn't last long enough once his mouth stretches into a smile.

 _Perfect_ , Seungri admires the sight.

 

 

“ _Love him at least as much as he loves you._ ”

 

 

“Perfect,” the word is casually spoken from the smiling lips Seungri's still staring at. “Have I ever told you this, Seungri?” The tips of Jiyong's fingers, touching his face, electrify him, spreading the thrill coming from his back throughout his body.

Seungri presses his elbows on the blanket-covered ground, propping himself while fixing his position atop Jiyong's body. Their legs are still tangled, with Seungri's left shin lightly brushing against his boyfriend's. “Tell me what?”

“That you... you're a living miracle.”

Along with the thrill, here comes the heat spreading on Seungri's face and neck immediately—at the same time, the glint on Jiyong's eyes comes in splashes of color. “Now you're making me blush. What do you want, Mister?”

“You told me you liked me being cheesy; you even did it only a few minutes earlier. Have you changed your mind already, Sir?”

“I was only asking you what you wanted, Mister,” Seungri sticks out his tongue and makes a face. “Because no, I don't want to do it here where there may be people watching from the distance. Do you know that whoever inside Mr. Nam's kitchen can see us right now, huh?”

A pair of arms snake across Seungri's back, enveloping the man in a hug as Jiyong coos, “My boyfriend's a pervert.”

“And a miracle. _Your_ living miracle.”

“Your face's still beet red, Love.”

“I don't care. I love it.”

“I love us too... I love us so much until—

 

 

“ _There will always be less-than-good times, even worse ones. We all have learnt that life isn't only about happiness, right? But that's the part of our life anyway._ ”

 

 

“—I feel everything seems to be too good to be true, Seungri...”

Seungri blinks. The owls are hooting from the distance, calling each other in a language only they who understand. The flutter is still inside him, but the slight sadness in Jiyong's voice involuntarily makes him feel a small pinch on the chest. “Why?”

The lids close in a slow motion, and the next second Jiyong opens his eyes, Seungri sees a tint of cold blue inside. “Because, Seungri...” Jiyong clears his throat, “it's not often that my reality turns out better than my dream. I can't deny that it feels so great... until I'm... scared?” He whispers the last word; his eyelids are shaky.

The other man only keeps his silence without breaking his stare. The only voice he makes slips out from his mouth a few moments later right after he straightens his back, sitting cross-legged on the empty spot next to Jiyong. “Sit,” Seungri tells his boyfriend—eyes are still glued to Jiyong's, “Now.”

Jiyong only follows him and his mouth is also sealed. His back is slightly hunched with uneasiness is clearly plastered on his face—after all, Seungri isn't blind and he can see the wavering eyes Jiyong's stare is giving him and the teeth buried in the lower lip.

His lover definitely needs a lecture.

“Didn't I tell you that _everything_ was real, Love?” Seungri huffs a long sigh. Resting his hand on Jiyong's knee, never once has he ever intended to make the other guy feel uncomfortable. “It still is. Can you feel my hand on your knee? See the stars in the sky up there?”

Jiyong gives him a silence as an answer... a loud silence full of questions, if Seungri doesn't make any mistake in translating the kind of stare he's seeing right now.

“Nothing to be scared of, Jiyong. We're here. You've told me from your story that what matters is with whom you're with now... and you're with me. Isn't that enough?”

“Seung—”

“ _You_ are an amazing person, Kwon Jiyong. If you already forget that I've told you that, then hear me say it again and again: you're amazing. You're beautiful. And most importantly, you're one of the best things in my life. You hear that?”

The black-haired man blinks with his mouth agape.

“So...” The colorful sparks inside Jiyong's are are visible once again once Seungri inclines himself forward. “I know what you're going to say and there's no way I'll let you continue it. Do you know why?”

 

 

“ _People often say that two is better than one... that the life is better to be shared with someone else. But remember that it also means more challenges to deal with too._ ”

 

 

“Seungri, I...”

“Kwon Jiyong. Listen to me. Okay?”

It takes a few seconds for Seungri to finally see the small nod of Jiyong's head.

“Can't you realize that you're so capable of loving, Jiyong? You're the man who has the idea of admiring a stranger even without having a clear idea about who he is. When people would've shrugged it off only a moment later, you somehow kept the feeling alive. When people most likely thought that such fling would only bring them the heartache from the uncertainties of meeting that stranger once again, you chose differently. That's why I always feel grateful that it's you, Love... because if it was me, there might be no chance for us to fall for each other like we do right now.” His hand gently grabs the other man's one, squeezing it warmly. “It's _you_ , Jiyong. It's you all along.”

“But...” Jiyong clears his throat, “but what if I wouldn't be... good enough for you? What if things wouldn't work the way we want?”

Another long sigh escapes from Seungri's cat-like mouth before it arches into a smile. “Dear Love... let's think about that later. It takes two to tango, right? This is why nobody's having a relationship with their own selves. Let me be the one who decide. Do you still remember what we told to each other after that night when we first kissed and made love?”

“I said... I wanted to love you...”

“True,” squeezing Jiyong's hand tighter, Seungri tries to reassure the man. “And I told you I wanted to do the same too. So no, I don't want you to feel burdened by something that hasn't happened at all. No, I don't want you to keep thinking that you're less than perfect. We're all full of flaws, Love... but that's how we are. We always have edges that scratch; what matters is how we compromise... how we accept each other for whatever we are... how we—”

“But you're already perfect, Seungri,” the other man blurts the words out, holding his hand tightly in return, “I can't ask you to be something more!”

The warmth spreads from Seungri's heart upon listening to those words, spreading to his fingertips and tugging the corners of his lips upwards to form a smile. ”And can't you see what my point is? What I'm trying to imply?” His free hand's reaching out for the face, cupping and caressing it lovingly. “For me, you're also perfect, Jiyong... and I can't ask you to be more than who you are right now.”

 

 

“ _Be strong; not only for yourself, but also for him when both of you're facing the chill wind._ ”

 

 

The dark orbs turn rounder—perhaps full of disbelief, Seungri assumes. So he doesn't stop giving his boyfriend the gentle, loving touch as he doesn't let go of Jiyong's hand and the soft, blushing cheek from his hold. His body inclines further with the man shifts even closer until the tips of their nose nuzzle.

And that's the very moment when Jiyong finally smiles his small smile—that one that always manages to make as if Seungri's heart is attempting to jump out from its cage.

“You make children dream, Jiyong...” Seungri murmurs the words while keeping his lips only one breath away from Jiyong's. “And you make me dream too, but it feels... better,” his sigh is full of adulation and longing. “Because you'll be the one to make those dreams come true.”

 

 

“ _And my last wish is only this one:_ ”

 

 

“And you'll make mine come true, Seungri...”

 

 

“ _Just be happy... together._ ”

 

 

Jiyong's lips capture Seungri's as if the man's trying to take Seungri's breath away. Soon enough, Seungri feels a pair of arms hugging him and the softness of cushioned ground on his back. The kiss still continues; Seungri runs his hands on the sides of his lover's body up and down, feeling the warm radiated through the single layer of cloth against his palms.

Nobody's trying to dominate; the kiss... it's full of gentleness and affection, a sincere expression of love. There's nothing but a true intention to give what's taken away and a longing to conquer and be conquered. Seungri closes his eyes, but the darkness isn't what he's seeing when the kiss takes him someplace where colorful sparkles of fireworks adorning the pitch-black sky and Jiyong's standing there, holding his hand as they're savoring the sight wordlessly, together.

He's breathing in Jiyong's scent when a distance eventually grows between them. When his eyes are open, the stars in the night sky are fading for their shine is sucked into two dark pools he's staring at.

He really doesn't want to stop whatever it is he's feeling right here and right now. And from the way Jiyong envelops him in a warm embrace and how they spend the rest of the night talking about every little thing in their life, it doesn't look like he'll ever be falling out of love anyway. Whatever tomorrow will bring to them, it'll be a business to tend to later. Right here and right now, he only wants to collect more memories to remember for a lifetime—and even more, if only he believed the idea of reincarnation.

His lips are so close from Jiyong’s ear when Seungri whispers, “I love you.”

 

* * *

 

 

1 Kodaline, _The One_ [[x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xLPGtQoRUbk)]

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi hello. This one is actually the final, although there's an epilogue coming. The epilogue will be published within 24hrs. Thanks for reading! x


	18. Epilogue: Oh My My

 

“Just what I wanted.”  
OneRepublic, _Oh My My_

 

* * *

 

 

Days and weeks have passed like the lights flashing before a pedestrian’s eyes. And as Jiyong stands next to the old oak tree, the nature-carved trunk under his palm, his chest suddenly swells with a familiar sense of pride the man feels whenever he finishes his book.

Today is the day.

“Jiyong!” A voice Jiyong will always cherish distracts the man—the kind of distraction Jiyong will never mind, though. “How’s everything?” A pair of tourmaline ignites the sparks stretching from one corner of lips to another, forming a constellation of stars as Seungri approaches him with a smile on his face.

“Perfect,” and Jiyong tells no lie.

The wedding singer steals a kiss—one of many—from Jiyong’s lips once two shadows merge as one under the shade of oak tree. “Your suit’s with me. No matter how busy you’ll be, don’t forget that you need to change to it, okay? And is there anything I can do to help?” His fingers trail down the arms and stop only when they’re laced with Jiyong’s in a perfect fit.

“No,” Jiyong smiles. “You can get ready now or prepare the cake, or do anything. Let me show where the waiting room is, Mr. Lee—Mr. Nam has been truly generous by letting us use his house for the day.”

Seungri giggles, leaning in for another kiss. “I can’t wait to see the grooms.”

“They’re busy torturing the makeup artists hairstylists now,” Jiyong releases his hands from Seungri’s only to pull the other man by his waist, leading the way. “You better see them now to help those poor souls.”

The small laughter coming from Seungri’s smiling lips rings clearly like bell chimes. “Do they share the same waiting room in the end?”

“Uh-huh,” Jiyong nods lightly. “Apparently the myth only works for heterosexual couples so they don’t need to worry at all about seeing each other before the wedding. And Love, wha—”

“Mr. Kwon!” Another voice cuts in and when Jiyong turns his head, he finds a tall man rushing towards him—Lee Seunghoon, the florist who’s also responsible for the decoration.

“My, my… Mr. Wedding Planner’s busy now,” Seungri gives Jiyong a small peck on the cheek. “I’ll see you soon?” His smile widens once Jiyong nods his head and the man walks in light steps.

Jiyong takes a last glance at Seungri’s shrinking figure before pinning his attention to the florist. He can’t help but let a small smirk make its way to reach his own lips when he recalls the plan he has for the day.

Today, indeed, is the day.

 

*

 

“Splendid,” Seungri hums, nodding in approval and arms crossed on his chest. “Both of you are the most dazzling grooms I’ve ever seen in life.” His remark, however, isn’t an exaggeration; after all, Seungri knows how talented Jinwoo is. The suits are perfectly tailored to accentuate each groom’s prominent feature. Seunghyun’s long suit falls right at his knees, emphasizing the man’s long legs flawlessly. Meanwhile, Daesung’s suit flaunts the “perfect V” shape—a term Seungri learnt from his best friend when the designer showed him the suits for the first time—featuring a nipped-in waist and a strong shoulder line to define the muscular body hidden behind the clothe perfectly.

Seunghyun grins widely while fixing his carmine tie. “Of course you’re going to say that. It’s because you haven’t—”

“Hush, Seunghyun. Hush,” Daesung approaches his soon-to-be husband to help fix the tie. “It’s not the right time to point out the obvious. Right, Seungri?”

Seungri meets the pair of Daesung’s smiling eyes reflected on the mirror, tilting his head slightly to the side. “What?”

But none of the grooms bother to ease the other man’s confusion. “Babe, do you marry me so that you can have someone to help you wear your tie properly?” Daesung whines, which earns him a kiss on his forehead from Seunghyun. “Well… I guess we need to alter our wedding vow a little,” he continues whining, yet the red spreading on his cheeks is plain to see.

Seungri quickly averts his gaze, feeling the flush also tinting his face upon seeing the intimacy. He knows that such gesture is nothing but normal, yet Seungri can’t help but feel as if he’s invading Daesung and Seunghyun’s privacy. “I guess,” he clears his throat, “I should go to my own room…”

“Wait, Seungri,” Seunghyun’s baritone voice halts the called man’s movement. “I’m just wondering… have you ever thought of being in a band?”

Confusion finds its way once again, crinkling Seungri’s nose. “What?” Yet, unsurprisingly, he receives no answer once again because Daesung, chuckling for a questionable reason, hurriedly pushes him out of the doorway and shuts the door closed. The sight of the closed door lingers for a moment, until the man decides to go to the kitchen, where the old man who owns the property is sitting and enjoying a cake Seungri brought earlier. The wedding cake, delivered the day before, is kept inside the refrigerator.

“Son, your cake’s probably the best one I’ve ever tasted,” the wrinkly face greets Seungri with a sincere warmth beaming from his small eyes. “Tea?”

Seungri glances at the antique wall clock—it’s only a few minutes past 9:00 A.M., which means that there are still about two hours until the wedding ceremony starts—and joins Mr. Nam in the small dining table. “Thank you,” he smiles and accepts the cup. While tasting the warm, sweet liquid melting in his buds, the man quickly captures a familiar silhouette seen through the kitchen window. Standing amidst the mess of half-erect wedding canopy is none other than Jiyong, who’s busy instructing the workers. The canopy built at the spot where Seunghyun and Daesung will tie the knot is put up already, made from wooden frames with red flowers to accent.

“Isn’t it a good weather for a wedding today?”

The younger man averts his gaze to find the same warmth meeting his eyes. “Yes,” Seungri places the cup back to the table. “It seems like it won’t be too hot today too, according to the weather forecast.”

“I can’t wait to hear your singing,” raising his eyebrows, Mr. Nam brings his own cup closer to his lips. “They say you’re a great one.”

“I’m flattered, Sir,” Seungri replies, smiling. “And are you going to join us during the reception too?”

“No, I’m too old for dancing and drinking. I think I’ll sneak out of the venue and return to the kitchen, quietly enjoying your cake once again,” the older man winks and raises his body off the chair. “I’ll go outside and make sure that none of them ruining my lawn.”

Alone in the quiet kitchen, Seungri spends the next 30 minutes to enjoy the tea and silently watches the view behind the glass window, especially the figure clad in white shirt. Only when Jiyong rushes towards the ranch house does he returns to the room assigned for him.

Jiyong’s navy blue suit, also tailored by Jinwoo, is lied on the empty bed, next to Seungri’s white one.

 

*

 

All 30 guests are sitting on their own chair, and their attention is solely focused on the three figures standing before them. Earlier, Seunghyun and Daesung walked down the aisle together, walking side by side with their fingers locked. The solemn atmosphere quickly broke into pieces once Seunghyun screamed, “I’m getting married today!” once he reached the altar, putting their hands up in the air as if they were Olympic medal winners. Laughter erupted, inviting Seunghyun’s childish grin and a twitch of irritation on the corner of Jiyong’s mouth—if it wasn’t because of Seungri, the man was sure that one of the groom would’ve been injured from a flying chair.

The one officiating the wedding is nobody else but Mr. Nam, who obviously takes his role the way Seunghyun and Daesung—but mainly Seunghyun—wants: skimp on all the unnecessary details and jump straight to the vows.

Daesung clears his throat—both grooms still haven’t let go of each other’s hands. Jiyong—seated on the same table with Seungri, Seunghyun’s sister, and Daesung’s sister—can see Daesung’s Adam’s apple bobbing up and down several times. An unfamiliar sign to see from the man, especially when Jiyong has known him for years. Daesung’s lips part, yet there’s still no word spoken; Jiyong notices the wavering eyes clearly, which suddenly disappears once the groom lowers his head.

The silence, however, doesn’t last any longer once Seunghyun’s baritone voice breaks it. His two fingers lifts Daesung’s head gently, a wide smile on his face reassures the other man. “It’s okay,” he murmurs softly. Only when Daesung replies him with a faint smile, the taller man continues.

“I, Choi Seunghyun,” the man slips the wedding ring, his loving look never leaves Daesung’s “vow to always be the one who wakes you up every morning noisily and tickles you whenever you refuse to fulfill my ridiculous requests. I vow to irritate you with my obsession with sweet foods and expensive wines. I vow to always text you stupid puns and jokes while you are working, and sneak a meme or two in every slideshow you polish the night before your important meeting. I vow to always discuss all the ideas to tease or prank Jiyong with you. I vow to always be the only one who knows how weird your face looks whenever you’re crying while watching every animation movie. I vow to always give your toys weird names and invite them to a tea party every Sunday afternoon. I vow to always give you the best sex and make each orgasm the best one you’ve ever had. I vow to always prepare your favorite breakfast in bed menu, in both literal and figurative meanings. I vow to always be all ears to your every complaint, including when you’re complaining about me. I vow to take care of you, to take care of us. Kang Daesung, I vow to grow old with you and love you. Forever.”

“And I,” Daesung’s hushed words is a little shaky, yet he continues anyway, without breaking his stare from Seunghyun as he slips the ring, “Kang Daesung promise to always be the one who get your shits together and be the sane one… the _saner_ one between us. I promise to love you even more each and every day. Choi Seunghyun, I want to spend our future betting on who have more wrinkles between us and stick together even when we have become two ghosts. Because ever since you kneeled before me even though you were just choked almost to death because you forgot which plate where you hid the ring was, I already knew that I could never live without you. You’ve completed me, body and soul.”

“And now,” Mr. Nam continues, “you may kiss your groom. But please, refrain from using your tongue.”

The newlyweds, fingers still intertwined, lean closer until their lips meet somewhere along the way. The guests, consisting of family and close friends only, applaud—the group of cousins cheer loudly when the grooms, who obviously don’t even bother to heed the simple request, kiss even more passionately.

Jiyong only laughs and shakes his head, even though it’s not something unexpected to him. The lump inside his throat, growing probably since his best friend recited his vow, feels almost unbearable. Massaging the bridge of his nose, he can only mutter under his breath, “Those idiots…”

“I must admit,” there’s a crack in Seungri’s voice, “that it’s probably the most ridiculous wedding vows I’ve ever heard, and you know how many vows I’ve listened to. But this is also the most sincere—”

“Why are you still seated, people?” Seunghyun, obviously has ended the kiss, shouts. “The party starts now! To bless you and your soul, let me introduce you to this wonderful singer, Lee Seungri. And if you see the cakes displayed beautifully on the dessert bar, he’s also the same one who baked them. And if you notice the gentleman sitting next to him, please be informed that he’s not only my best friend, but also the boyfriend of our wedding singer. And—”

“ _Husband_ ,” the husky voice butts in, “shut up and let’s dance!” And the two red figures dash amidst the neatly arranged round tables, heading towards the dancing ring on the opposite side under the canopy.

Seungri receives the microphone, handed by the sound technician, and glances at Jiyong. His mouth agape, pupils dilated in confusion. It’s obvious that the officiate has disappeared and the wedding proceeds to the reception as Seunghyun likes. Jiyong only gestures the singer to stand and go with the flow, to which Seungri follows by introducing himself awkwardly. The newlyweds are standing so close at the center of the dancing ring, arms wrapping around each other and ready.

Per Daesung’s request, Seungri will be singing acapella as the couple dance their first dance, followed by two more songs. Jiyong quietly leaves his chair to instruct the servers to refill the glasses with drink and get the buffet ready. The music in the air tells him that his boyfriend has started singing, yet the man is too occupied with the foods.

He is, until a soft nudge distracts him when he’s tasting the red bliss potato salad, making sure that it’s still fresh. It’s Mr. Nam, telling him, “Leave the tasting to me, Jiyong. Go back to your seat and enjoy the wedding.”

“Uhh…” The half-chewed salad is probably the main reason why there’s no word coming out of his parted lips.

“Go back to your seat,” the old man pushes him, gesturing him to leave the buffet, “and enjoy the wedding. Your _best friend’s_ wedding. Don’t make me repeat myself, Son…”

“But Sir—”

“A stubborn, aren’t you?” The old man laughs lightly, this time pushing the younger even harder. “It’s your boyfriend singing too. You should wait at least until the grooms finish their first dance.” And as Mr. Nam starts taking over his job and doesn’t seem to hear his refusal, Jiyong’s eyes merely darts from the old figure and the newlyweds, still unsure about what he should do.

Yet he returns to his seat anyway, despite the reluctance. Sipping his drink, he focuses on the three figures standing on the dancing ring—two are dancing, one is standing on one corner and singing. And just like it has always been, the latter is a magnet to him, making Jiyong unable to bother staring at anything else because nothing else matters. Nothing else can ever make him forget about the world revolving around them. _Nobody_ else.

_Don’t worry, baby_

_It’s enough just to make me go crazy,_

_it’s enough just to make me go crazy_

_I get ready,_

_I get all dressed up,_

_to go nowhere in particular_

_It doesn’t matter if I’m not enough_

_for the future or the things to come_

_‘Cause I’m young, and in love_

_I’m young, and in love 1_

 

There’s a distance between them, filled with people who are immersed in the atmosphere and bliss as Seunghyun and Daesung move gracefully. Yet Jiyong knows that he’s been found, just like how he found _him_ the other day. It’s a small bubble surrounding them, keeping the outside world from intruding. And once ther gaze meets somewhere along the way, the flame beneath the pool of two brown eyes consumes him with a familiar spark of desire.

It _almost_ feels like love… except for the truth that it, truly, is love.

The little voice inside his head, once again, reminds him that today is the day.

 

*

 

They’re finally reunited when the music is blasting from the speakers and the excited guests join the newlyweds on the dance floor, including Jiyong. The four of them—Jiyong, Seungri, Daesung, and Seunghyun—are huddled, moving the body following the rhythm. Seunghyun, drunk in happiness, grabs both Sengri and Jiyong by the waist and proceeds to hug-dance. His foot occasionally steps on Seungri’s, but the man doesn’t mind it at all.

“Ey, Seungri,” stomping his feet in a reckless beat, Seunghyun cheers. His loud, heavy voice somehow finds a way to be heard amidst the music—most likely because the taller man literally screams in Jiyong’s ears. “You know what? You definitely should be in a band! And I have an idea for the band’s name!”

Daesung says nothing; his husky voice forms a laughter of pure joy as the man lets go of Seungri and Jiyong from his embrace and leaves the obviously-weird dance. Seungri opens his mouth, yet Jiyong hears nothing; probably the man doesn’t say anything, probably the voice is lost in the middle of the loud music.

“It’s husband! Jiyong’s husband!” Leaning in, Seunghyun presses his lips on Jiyong and Seungri’s cheek. And following his spouse, the man leaves to hug-dance with people who are unlucky enough to be near him.

“What the…” completely baffled, Jiyong stands still, his mouth agape. Turning his head, the man can already feel a train of curses forming at the tip of his tongue. “Seunghyun! What the fu—” A hold wrapping around Jiyong’s wrist stops him, both firm and gentle to keep the man from going too far.

Seungri’s eyes are like the candle flame, flickering and dancing with the wind’s invisible hands to guide. “Shush,” Seungri puts his forefinger on his pouty lips, before expanding into a familiar constellation of stars that emerge along with the smile, “Shut up and groove.”

One song has ended, yet there’s no time for the silence to creep in as another one is playing immediately. The beat continues, so do they and their dance. A song Jiyong isn’t familiar with is blasting, but it doesn’t matter at all when Seungri’s hands secure him by his waist, pulling him closer. Just like the gravity.

Jiyong has never been much of a dancer, especially when he spent all the years growing up to dream about the worlds where the plants and animals are talking, where humans can fly among the stars, and where pirates and fairies and elves and dwarves are real (and he still does). His years during high school were nothing different either, with him being too busy avoiding any kind of spotlight. The brief year spent for law school gave him nothing but a pressure too much for him to handle, thanks to the nonexistence of his passion.

 

_Oh, sunshine in an empty place 2_

 

Of course, his questionable dancing skill doesn’t matter at all once he finally realizes that it’s about living in the moment and celebrating his best friend’s happiness. And of course, celebrating _his_ too, although his happiness manages to step on both his feet at the same time. Jiyong, moving his legs and arms in pure excitement, can’t take his eyes off the other man who’s also dancing as excitedly. He notes all the little things he knows have always made Seungri simply captivating—the kitty smile, heart-shaped grin, long lashes fluttering as if they’re dancing along with the music too, bright brown eyes like two drops of jewel in a vast universe, droplets of sweat trailing down the jawline…

He’s still wondering what made his life possible… what made _this_ possible.

“Jiyong?” Seungri rests his head gently on Jiyong’s shoulder, the melody in his voice melts like honey in Jiyong’s ears. “I guess I know what songs I’ll sing for your wedding…”

Jiyong’s arms extend, wrapping the other man in a hug. Both of their bodies sway gently and Jiyong winces once he feels the pressure on top of his feet pushing down along with the added weight—the weight of an adult man. “No, you silly,” the tip of his nose gently nuzzles in the mop of auburn-colored hair, breathing in the familiar scent to fill his lungs. “There’s _no way_ I’ll let you sing on my wedding.”

 

_Won’t you teach me how to love and learn?_

_There’ll be nothing left for me to yearn_

_Think of me, and burn, and let me hold your hand 2_

 

The pressure on his feet disappears, swapped with Seungri’s eyes staring straight at Jiyong’s. The face begins to blur and the distance slowly disappears as their lips meet; a touch that tastes like sweet ice cream melting in the tongue during summer.

 

_I don’t want to face the world in fears_

_Please think again, I’m on my knees_

_Sing that song to me 2_

 

_It_ ’s getting closer and Jiyong can feel _it_ in his bone.

 

*

 

The half-empty cup and half-eaten cake. The cotton curtains framing the kitchen window are untied, flapping gracefully each time the wind greets them. The silence lingers, filling in the space between two men: Seungri, sitting on the wooden chair, and Jiyong, kneeling before him.

“Yes,” is the only word that comes from Seungri’s smiling lips. “Yes, Jiyong.”

And only Jiyong knows how his heart almost explodes upon hearing the answer. He has forgotten how embarrassed he was only a few minutes ago when he finally popped the question; nothing but bliss rushing from the left of his chest, spreading like a spark of electricity to every cell of his body. He’s been wanting to do this for weeks, and asking the question when the pinks and yellows begin to splash the expanding summer sky after Seunghyun’s reception isn’t what he initially planned.

Who cares about plan, though, when the yearning keeps forcing its way out? Jiyong doesn’t and will never regret it.

“Yes,” Seungri, lowering his head, repeats his answer. “I’ll move in to your place,” gently, he places two fingers on Jiyong’s chin. “I’m going to live with you,” the hushed words bring the singer’s face closer, “in your two-bedroom apartment… although we both know that the other bedroom will remain empty, don’t we?”

The warmth of Seungri’s breath soon vanishes. When Jiyong closes his eyes, the soft glows of red and white are what’s surrounding him, instead of a pitch black darkness. There’s a silhouette of a man standing before him, yet his face is nothing but a blurred image, except for the smile that looks familiar to Jiyong. That mysterious man stretches his hand, as if asking Jiyong to take it. But it’s only one split moment before the tip of Jiyong’s finger can finally touch it when he opens his eyes… only to get himself enraptured by iridescent brown eyes.

Maybe, he’ll write a book about them.

( _Not maybe_ , Jiyong corrects himself, _but definitely_.)

 

* * *

 

 

1 Lana Del Rey, _Love_ [[x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3-NTv0CdFCk)]

2 Bastille, _Of the Night_ [[x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZCTDKLjdok4)]

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi hello. Although ch 17 is the ending of this story, I've always wanted to end it like this. Hence, this epilogue (also, this is sort of an explanation to the weird title -- English isn't even my 1st language & prepositions are difficult). I can never thank you who have read DSoMW, so I truly hope that you did enjoy reading it. Feel free to drop comment; I'd like to know what you think about this story.
> 
> -k


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